


Anima

by yutatea



Category: BLACKPINK (Band), EXO (Band), NCT (Band), Red Velvet (K-pop Band), SuperM (Korea Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Corruption, Dark Thoughts, Death, F/M, Family, Fighting, Growing Up, Heartbreak, Homophobia, Jail, M/M, Police Officer Kim Taehyung | V, Rating May Change, Rebels, Soul-family, Suicidal Tendencies, highschool, outcasts, small town, they're all really sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26176480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutatea/pseuds/yutatea
Summary: ❝We are rotting souls sprinkled with vestiges of glory in a desolate town.❞Where a group of five turn out to be different from the expectations people had gained from watching their every movement, and they don't regret shattering their masks and exposing the raw, bloody creature beneath images forced upon them by the conservatives of a lonely, desolate town.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kang Seulgi, Byun Baekhyun/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	1. Beginning of The End

"You are guilty of committing heinous crimes, Byun Baekhyun," The judge said, voice harder than steel and gaze colder than ice.

He said nothing, hanging his head low. He could almost hear Jennie cry, he could hear Seulgi sob, he could sense the heated glares Taeyong shot straight over his head to the judge, hoping looks could be strong enough to kill. He could feel the thrumming of Chanyeol's pulse, the rush of blood in his veins as he wanted to leap over the bench and fight.

But there was nothing they could do, and they knew it. He knew it. He was too far gone to be saved, too near the gates of hell for angels to even dare venture close to him. There really was no justice in this miserable world, he sighed. Baekhyun raised his chin, locking eyes with the aged man who sat, banging a gavel.

A ringing in his ears, a rush of blood in his head, all tuned out the words the man said. He could see his lips moving, he could see the fury with which the old man looked at him, he could see the lingering satisfaction present in the eyes of the judge, knowing he was doing God's duty in his name by sentencing a criminal to years of imprisonment.

Baekhyun smiled.

He smiled because he knew there was nothing else he could do except brave the incoming storm, of sins and filth trapped in cages with steel bars and cemented walls, patrolled by lazy guards. He smiled because he knew that he was a better judge than the man in front of him, and he had completed his duty by saving his friends over and over again. His days of heroic deeds were over, he thought sadly. Who would take care of Seulgi's bruises now? Who would wipe Jennie's tears and clean Taeyong's wounds? Who would protect Jimin from people who prodded too deep?

He caught his lower lip with pearly white teeth as he ignored the jingling of handcuffs the policeman tried to intimidate him with, before feeling the cold metal clamp around his wrists. He was yanked back harshly, away from the stand, and his eyes flickered to the crowds, where he had been hoping to see his friends standing. They weren't there. ll he could think of was the sinking feeling in his gut as worry clouded his mind. Were they okay?

 _Take care of each other, please._ He had wanted to tell them, hoping his gaze would have been enough to communicate. Don't wait for me, grow up, live well. Get off the streets, fight for a happier life.

_I'll come back, someday._

Seulgi's mother was one of the few who dared to lock eyes with him, an expression of sympathetic fury riddling her face. Sympathy for his plight, fury for his crimes, He wanted to scoff and tell her to take better care of his child, but it wasn't his place to do without Seulgi by his side. Taeyong's father stood to the side, an arm slung protectively over his wife as he stared at the handcuffs with an indescribable look in his eyes. Perhaps horror, knowing that his son associated with someone like Baekhyun. Jennie's sister looked downcast, fingers clenched as she stared at the marble floor.

Baekhyun sighed inwardly, his lips drawing themselves into a soft smile as he envisioned his little entourage outside the doors of the court. In reality, the four of them must have been locked away by their families in order to prevent them from coming to court and causing a scene. But regardless, it gave him the courage to walk towards those doors slowly, believing the people who gave him strength were outside, waiting for him.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled fondly at the scene in his head. A family that ran deeper than blood, relationships that went beyond genetics. He was proud of the boys and girls who the world had given up hoping on. He was proud because they made it farther in life than they had ever hoped. He was proud he could see them grow.

He felt like a parent. That reminded him of his own family. He turned his head to stare at his mother, who was shaking and crying with her hands covering her mouth. His father stood beside her, attempting to console the inconsolable as he stared sadly at Baekhyun.

His father's words echoed in his head once again. You're ruining your life over nobodies, Baekhyun. They can't do anything for you in this world if they can't even do anything for themselves. 

_Baekhyun knew that._

Baekhyun knew he gave too much to those who could give nothing of material value in return, but the cold fingers of disappointed never addled his brain or clutched his heart. He never expected anything in return. But life wasn't about material exchanges and the wealth you possessed. In the streets of their town, in the dead of the night, they awakened life within him. He'd never felt more alive as he ran down the streets, with the wind flying through his hair and the cheers of friends who soon bloomed into family filling the deathly silence. He'd never felt like he was living more than when the five of them sat on the rooftop with the breeze carding it's gentle fingers through their hair, the stars shining down on them, whispering words of comfort as the five of them sought solace in each other.

Broken people with jagged edges, pointed and sharpened by miseries of life had torn apart the picture-perfect image he'd worked so hard to create and had exposed the young child underneath who had much to learn about the world. He would do anything to protect them, even if it meant coming home with cut knuckles and fresh purple bruises blooming across his skin as he attempted to protect them from the harsher, inhumane people of the town to spat angrily at them and told them they were the lowest scum of society.

His little sister was at school. He was saddened by that a tiny bit. He'd wanted to see her face, memorize the childish beauty and innocence that radiated from her features, just so that even when all he could see were prison walls, he could smile.

But perhaps it was better if she didn't believe her brother was an unstable, cruel person who went around causing pain, breaking noses and breaking families with his fist and words.

That's all the town saw him as. 

_A perfect child gone wrong._

He didn't tell them the crimes committed by those on the receiving end of his blows, simply because it wasn't his business to do so.

Maybe, somewhere deep inside, there was a small feeling of betrayal, indicated by the almost unnoticeable bitter taste at the back of his mouth. If his friends hadn't been so scared to come out and tell the truth, maybe he wouldn't be sentenced to years of jail for violence.

But the instinct to protect them overpowered it. He knew what each of them went through wasn't something they all could easily talk about, and he was willing to wait for them to become strong enough to overcome the fear that was lodged in their chest and often tightened it's hold on their vocal cords when they tried to speak.

He looked away from his parents. He didn't want to see them cry because of him. It hurt, knowing that it was disappointment present behind the layers of sadness in his father's eyes. He was supposed to be a good example, a caring brother, an exemplary son. He'd failed all of that. The policeman pulled him away harder, and Baekhyun stumbled slightly, before hurriedly making his way behind the man in uniform.

His butterfly days were truly over.

But all he felt was peace.


	2. Marionette | Part One

Seulgi was a broken masterpiece.

That's what she had been calling herself ever since she was a child and had come across the word. A masterpiece.

The adjective 'broken' got added on in high-school.

She was a normal girl, who loved to watch the stars on sleepless nights, who danced to songs and studied hard. She ate the same food as everyone else, breathed the same air as everyone else, her feet took her down the same paths as everyone else. So why did they treat her so differently?

She was told it was because she was different. That she wasn't normal, her situation wasn't normal, her life wasn't normal, she as a person wasn't normal.

That sort of thing took a toll on her bright, sunny personality. Now, every time she looked in the mirror, all she could see was a dead look in her eyes and a permanent frown on her face etched from the years of loneliness. Humans were scared of things that were drastically different from what they were used to.

This rich, high profile school didn't do scholarships. The one exception they made for Seulgi was for the publicity, for people to know that their hearts were made of gold and they were, oh, so very generous.

Of course, she was grateful, and it spurred her on to work harder, to keep getting top grades, to keep on excelling at studies.

It was the only thing she excelled at, or rather, it was the only thing she knew she excelled at. She'd never know if she could play football, as well as the boys, did, or if she could dance as gracefully as the girls. They never let her do these activities with them, so she was stuck alone at the back of the classroom, mind focused on the white scrawls on the blackboard, with mindless whispers about her family and life when the students got bored playing in the background.

That day was no different. She sat in the isolated corner formed by two adjacent school buildings, one jutting out a bit more than the other. She could hear the telltale signs of pounding of shoes against hard-packed earth and the high pitched cheers of the girls that indicated the boys were playing their favorite sport during lunch, the girls watching them as they giggled and gossiped, some even joining the boys.

There were the occasional loners who stayed at the library or back in the classroom, and even they avoided her and refused her attempts at establishing a friendship so very long ago. Young Seulgi, she thought to herself as she petulantly prodded the salad her mother had packed for her, was a social and naive being, too desperate for the warmth and love that was provided with friendships. At least, that was what she had seen on television.

She had given up a long time ago trying to make friends like those.

A shadow over her, and she looked up to see Baekhyun towering over her, a frown on his face.

The silver-haired senior said nothing for a few minutes, the silence drawing on long enough for Seulgi to get irritated. "What do you want?" She spat out, growing more agitated as he said nothing, his lunch bag hanging limp at his side before he suddenly sat down next to her.

Nonchalantly, he began taking out his lunch, revealing rather elegantly made sandwiches.

Why were even the sandwiches different when made by higher class people, she wondered.

"Want some?" He asked, offering her one. She stared at him, unblinking, before asking, "Why are you sitting here?"

"I didn't know this corner was reserved only for you." He said coolly, before placing one of the sandwiches in her box. "Eat it. It's not good to diet." He said, eyeing her salad.

"I-I'm not on a diet," Seulgi said defensively, before turning pink as she remembered that her mother couldn't afford to have given her anything else that day because they were out of food and barely had money to go to the shop.

"Good." Baekhyun hummed, beginning to eat quietly. Seulgi stared at him weirdly for a while, as if trying to pry open his mind and glean his intentions by boring holes into his skull with her gaze.

A few more minutes passed in silence, before he turned to her with a mildly annoyed expression. "You're not eating." He said, gesturing to the untouched food in her lunch box.

"Right." She muttered distractedly, and followed suit, silence once again falling over the two of them. She couldn't stop eyeing him, giving him frequent side glances, seemingly waiting for him to reveal his true intentions of sharing his food and sitting beside her.

What on earth could he possibly want? No one ever spoke to her unless they needed something. It was a rarity they ever did, for she could usually never give anything, be it spare change or extra food. Unless he wanted tutoring lessons, to which she almost snorted. He was her senior, she wouldn't be able to help him.

"Take a picture," He said, not even looking at her, jolting her out of her reverie as she realized she had been staring too long. "It'll last longer." "What do you want from me?" Seulgi asked, her tone firm as she tried to cover up her embarrassment, turning around to face him. Baekhyun looked surprised, before giving her a faint smile.

"I like people." He said. She gave him a baffled look, before he continued. "I like being with people, but they," He pointed in the direction of the other boys and girls. "They are too loud. You're not. So I came here."

"You really shouldn't be seen with me." She said, picking at her shoelace. "You have a good reputation among the people in my grade. Don't ruin it." Seulgi couldn't bring herself to look at him, flinching when he drew closer, forcing himself in her line of vision.

"That sounds awfully similar to something that would come out of a drama." He said, tilting his head. "Not surprising, you seem like the type to like dramas." He shrugged, drawing back as she furrowed her eyebrows. It was true, she was a fan of the shows that came on the dingy, small television in the cramped living room of her house. It was the only time she could spend with her mother when the older lady wasn't hounded with work, struggling to support their crumbling family, but even that had stopped lately.

"I like dramas too. L" Baekhyun said absentmindedly. "I only got into them recently, though. You should recommend some to me." Seulgi stayed quiet, stray strands of her black hair fluttering around her face, blocking the older boy out.

The minutes ticked by, the only sounds heard were the ones from the playground and the steady breathing of the two, until the loud school bell rung, indicating that it was time to go back.

Baekhyun stood up and stretched, turning around and offering her a smile. His eyes lingered on her wrist for a second too long, before he said, "That's a very pretty bracelet."

And just like that, he was gone.

Seulgi's eyes dropped down to her pale wrist, her heartbeat speeding up as the thick bracelet she had been wearing had slipped down her arm, exposing the purples bruises, the shape of which looked eerily similar to fingers.

He saw.

He came back the next day.

"What do you want?" Seulgi asked once again, and he gave her that same, patient smile. "Some company." He said, sitting down beside her. To his credit, he was very subtle as he pressed a small tube of ointment into her hand.

"Be careful." He said, opening his lunch box. "Wrist injuries can be painful."

"Why are you doing this?" She asked him warily. He paused, looking at her blankly. "Is it so wrong to want to make a new friend?" He asked.

"Why me?" She asked, an eyebrow raised. He turned to her, an exasperated expression on his face. "Just eat." He sighed.

A minute passed, before he slowly asked, "What's your name?" She took a bite of her food, chewing slowly to avoid answering for a bit.

"Kang Seulgi." She said quietly. "Nice to meet you, Seulgi." He grinned. "I'm Baekhyun."

"I know." She said.

"Geez, am I that famous?" He asked, looking thoughtful. She looked at him, and he gave her a cheeky smile. "Just kidding, I know I am."

The bell rang once again.

He came back the next day.

And the next.

And then the next.

It became a routine, and before she knew it, two weeks had passed by in his company. She slowly began looking forward to lunch.

Admittedly, she liked his company. As sad as it was, she had forgotten was true, unbiased, and non-judgmental interaction had felt like. He truly didn't know anything about her or her batch of students, just a couple of names and nothing about her reputation.

With him, she wasn't Seulgi, the only daughter of a poor family who weaseled her way into a prestigious school with a scholarship, she was just Seulgi, who listened to his complaints about the increasing workload, the number of tests, the occasionally overbearing teachers.

She liked that. She'd thought about telling him about her background, as he had occasionally questioned her on, only for her to veer around the question. It was unfair, she thought to herself one afternoon as she stayed back to clean the classroom as requested by her teacher. She knew so much about him, yet he knew nothing about her.

Baekhyun was a kind boy. He didn't have any tragic back story. His mother loved him, his father cared for him. His little sister looked up to him. He got good grades and was part of the football team. He sang in the church choir every Sunday wearing a properly buttoned-up white shirt and well-fitted trousers, and he sang well.

He was good looking and moved with the elegance of a swan. He smiled where ever he went, and everyone regardless of whom they were, and was always willing to help.

He, essentially, was the ideal child any parent would love to have. Seulgi was the opposite, a messy hazard who tried not to get herself into trouble and remained quiet. She was clumsy and often knocked things over, she wasn't strong and couldn't run for very long. It had taken her a lot of work to get her grades to where they were now, and a lot of effort to maintain them.

But he didn't know that. There was a lot he didn't know.

The silence of the school was broken by the tapping of footsteps in the empty corridor outside the classroom she was in, startling her. She raised her head in surprise, peering out the window slightly once she heard voices.

It was Baekhyun, she saw, her lips automatically curving into a smile, before it slipped off her face when she saw him with another girl from her grade.

They'd stopped a little further away from the classroom, the silver-haired boy's back turned towards her.

"I'm telling you this because I care about you, Baekhyun." The girl said softly, a pink tint to her cheeks, visible in the fading sunlight as the sky was stained with a hue of oranges.

"You really should stay away from Kang Seulgi."

Seulgi's heartbeat sped up, a sinking feeling in her gut. She wanted to pull herself away from the window, knowing it would do her no good to listen any further, but she couldn't. She was glued to the window sill, hidden by the shadows as the minutes passed, afternoon slowly turning into evening.

Was this how her friendship with Baekhyun would end? Him finding out about her background, and then deciding that she was too low class for him? She wouldn't put it past him. There was a time when every boy and girl in her grade had been sweet, caring and friendly towards her until the second they found out she wasn't like them in terms of prestige or status in this small town.

A leech, a freeloader, they would say. Eventually, it all died down and they simply ignored her existence.

He didn't. He had noticed the black-haired girl sitting alone, had made the effort to sit beside her, given her company. It was embarrassing, but she had gotten attached rather quickly to the boy with puppy-like eyes and a sunlit smile.

She didn't want to lose him to a background she had no control over. She bit her lip harshly as the seconds passed by, slowly dragging on as both the girls waited for his response.

"Thank you for your concern," Baekhyun said coolly, and Seulgi could picture the warm smile on his face. "But who I am friends with is my choice entirely."

The girl seemed to be just as taken aback as Seulgi. "Do you not know of her reputation?" The girl asked incredulously. Baekhyun shrugged non caringly, before bowing down slightly as he made to turn away.

Seulgi retreated farther back, not wanting to be caught, but she could still his shadow on the wall.

Both of them still when the girl called out. "She's a parasite. Her family is poor, but she somehow wormed her way into this school. She leeches off the kindness of the school, acts so aloof, as if she's higher than all of us and refuses to talk to us, when in reality, she's no better than the dirt at the bottom of our shoes."

Seulgi's heart broke. She'd never have thought such harsh words could ever be split from a person's mouth. She was surprised the sharpness of the words didn't slice the girl's tongue, every syllable feeling like a searing hot knife was wedging itself into her skin.

Of course.

People were so unfair. How was she the aloof one? They shunned her, swore at her, humiliated her, yet they dare to say that she was the one who pushed them all away.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she struggled to draw in breath, her fingers curled. She sat down hard, sure that they had heard the sound of her legs giving way and her thudding to floor on her knees, but if they did, they gave no indication.

"Alright." Baekhyun's voice said, ice-cold, undertones of irritation. "As I said, thank you for your concern, but if any of that is true, I will find out for myself. Now, please do leave me alone, and have a good evening." "She isn't worth your friendship, Baekhyun." The girl called out, her voice carrying over the sound of Baekhyun's heavy footsteps on the marble floor. "She will just use you."

"I admire your efforts, but now it sounds like you're trying to isolate her more than you're looking out for my wellbeing." Baekhyun left the heavy words hanging in the air, the implication echoing in Seulgi's head, and then the loud slamming of a door was heard.

Silence.

The angry huff of the girl was heard, before she stormed off angrily, and once again, Seulgi was left alone.

Like she always was.

The next day, her worst fears were confirmed. Baekhyun didn't show up for lunch for two days. Her mind ran into overdrive, tears threatening to fall as she chewed slowly, waiting and waiting for the telltale signs of the older boy's approach, but there were none.

It was almost as if she could hear the snickers of the girls and boys as they glanced in her lonely direction.

Are you happy now? She wanted to ask them. You've taken away my only friend. Are you finally satisfied?

If they were, well, at least she'd made someone happy in her life. A sad chuckle erupted from her lips, before it was followed by a soft sob.

The bell rang.

That afternoon, she walked out of the school, feeling lonelier than ever. She blocked out the cheers and shouts as the other students made plans to go out somewhere, the Friday evening weighing on everyone's minds with joy, while all she felt was dread at having to be home for the weekend.

Her father would be at home.

Her skin would be painted with more bruises.

A broken masterpiece.

She let out a loud sigh, adjusting her bag straps as she made her way towards the school gate through the throngs of students before a loud voice caught her attention.

"Baekhyun! You didn't show up to school today!" One of the seniors exclaimed, passing by her quickly towards a lone figure she hadn't noticed standing by the gates.

The silver-haired boy who hadn't shown up to the lunch stood at the black gates with a guilty smile on his face." I had a few things to do today. L" He said apologetically to the taller one, who clapped him on the back with a forgiving laugh. "Little Baekhyunnie is busy becoming the next CEO of his father's company." The taller teased him.

Seulgi's eyebrows lifted slightly, a small weight on her chest seemingly being lifted off. So he didn't show up because he was absent for the whole day?

It was a small comfort, a ray of hope tearing through the dark cloud that had been hanging over her head the whole day, a small, desperate thought that maybe, just maybe she hadn't lost her friend.

Baekhyun shrugged off the other with a small smile, before his eyes flickered over the crowd, and when they landed on Seulgi, they widened ever so slightly. She ducked her head, biting her lip. She didn't want to see if it was disappointment or hatred in his eyes. Despite the hope, she was still scared. She was a coward, and she knew it.

"I got to catch up on the school work today, I'll see you later." She heard Baekhyun tell the student, the other giving him a goodbye before walking away.

She could hear the sound of footsteps coming towards her, and they stopped, she looked up at the shining face of Baekhyun.

"Hello," He said cheerily. "Did you miss me today, Seul?"

She didn't give a response, to which a quick frown came over his bright features, before it quickly disappeared. "I have to go talk to the teachers. If it isn't too much trouble, could you come with me?" He asked.

Seulgi bit her lip, thinking of all the trouble she could get into for coming home late, before exhaling with a nod.

Anything to not meet her father.

His face brightened up even further, and together they made their way back into the soon to be empty school.

She found herself back in the very same classroom she had been in days ago, crying as the memory of her classmate's harsh words stuck to her, searing her skin and burning her eyes as she had hiccuped softly, trying to calm herself.

"You're especially quiet, today," Baekhyun commented, not looking up from the several sheets of paper splayed out on the desk in front of him. "Is something wrong?"

Her anxiety was increasing with each passing second, with each dip lower the sun took in the sky, slowly but steadily sinking towards the horizon. "Why are you still here?" She asked, softly. Baekhyun looked up at her in surprise, tilting his head. "I have school work, obviously. I'm supposed to be here." He said, looking bewildered. "I'm surprised you're still here, though. Thank you for the company."

Seulgi let out a soft chuckle, one that she couldn't help but let slip out before she shook her head. "That's not what I meant." She said. "Then?" Baekhyun asked, shifting his attention back down the words printed on the white paper, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I've been looking at too many numbers," He sighed. "I don't like this." He said childishly.

Seulgi smiled faintly, debating as to whether she even wanted to ask him. They were better off this way, weren't they? He was acting no differently than how he did, and she was happy. But the innate thirst she had for knowledge was her weakness, and she knew the question would always hang over her head.

"Why are you still my friend?" She asked. Baekhyun stopped fiddling with his pen, looking back at her with a frown on his face. "I thought we'd gotten past that phase, Seul." He said, his eyes flitting over her face. Perhaps he saw something in her expression that she didn't know she was showing, but whatever the reason, his expression softened.

"What's the matter?" He asked her. She adjusted her position so that she was sitting cross-legged atop the cold metal desk she'd chosen to seat herself upon, and she picked at the hem of her skirt.

"Just... You heard that girl told you a few days back." She said softly. A confused look crossed Baekhyun's countenance before realization flickered in the depths of his warm, brown eyes, and he looked at her warily. "You were there for that?" He questioned, an eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

She nodded. "I'd been cleaning out this classroom, and I overheard you." She explained, unable to make eye contact with the senior.

Baekhyun was quiet, before saying, "I'm sorry." Seulgi flinched, looking at him with wide eyes. "Why are you sorry?" She asked, hurriedly.

"What that girl said was very rude." He said. "No one deserves to have anyone say stuff like that about them. It was harsh, cruel, mean-" "But true." Seulgi swiftly cut in.

"What the girl said," She began. "Was, is, true." Baekhyun looked at her with an unreadable expression, before he said carefully, "You're going to use me?"

Seulgi's mouth dropped open, horrified. "Of course not!" She exclaimed. "I-I would never-" "That's what I thought." Baekhyun hummed. "What she said wasn't true, then."

Seulgi shut her mouth, before answering, "It's true that I'm from a poor family, though." Seulgi breathed out. Baekhyun glanced at her, before resting his cheek on his palm. "And?" He asked, intrigued by what she was thinking.

She looked back down, her nail absentmindedly dragging itself across the cloth of her patterned skirt. "Just, just thought you should know."

There was an awkward silence between the two of them before Baekhyun broke it. "Did you think I would judge you for that?" He asked incredulously.

Seulgi said nothing, which was an answer in itself. The silver-haired boy let out a breath, crossing his arms as he stood up, looking at her. "You know, if you have so little faith in me, then we shouldn't be friends."

Seulgi had never looked up so fast in her life, heart hammering in her chest as her eyes widened. Baekhyun towered over her even when she sat, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at her in a huff.

"I didn't believe that girl because I figured you'd tell me about yourself whenever you felt comfortable." He said, pursing his lips. "But if the reason you haven't been telling me about yourself is that you were afraid that I was going to judge you for who you are, then I must say, I'm mildly hurt."

She could recognize the slightest traces of terror in her system, and she let out a weird amalgamation of a choked "No," and a breathless "I'm sorry," which left a rather puzzled Baekhyun.

"I," She took a deep breath, the corners of her mouth turning down. "I'm sorry."

Baekhyun was silent, before sighing and patting her head, seating himself down again. "It's okay." He said, giving her a small smile. "I get it, it's hard to trust sometimes. Just know that you can trust me. It's up to if you want to."

With that, he went back to his work, leaving a choked up Seulgi, tears forming that she tried to hide.

It seemed that Byun Baekhyun was forgiving as well.


	3. Marionette | Part Two

One evening, she found herself being walked back home by Baekhyun. Never before had she brought any friend of hers to the rundown neighborhood she lived in. Shops and houses were packed together, a dusty gray look to the whole area, which made it convenient for the vibrant signs the shopkeepers used to stand out.

There was the occasional stray dog or cat that crossed her path. It was relatively peaceful, the silence was broken by the roar of the motorcycle of the delivery boy coming to life, the helmeted male giving her a small wave as he sped by the two of them, or by the clanging from the small bookshop, possibly the quirky female who worked there having bumped into her ladder, causing it to fall. The sweet smell of baking bread and other sugary goodies wafted from the bakery tucked away at the corner wafted through the air.

Seulgi loved her neighborhood. Very few people in the area were hostile, having seen the worst of life, the knowledge of what a little kindness could do ingrained in their hearts. She was one of the few children in the small clusters of homes and shops, and all the older people took care of her. More than her actual parents ever did, she thought bitterly to herself.

"It's very cozy," Baekhyun said, spinning around in awe. It was clear he had never been to this part of the town before. Why would he need to? Someone from a well off family like him would steer away from these sort of rundown areas, the reputation of hoodlums and gangsters roaming the streets having spread throughout the town.

"It is." Seulgi agreed, smiling softly as they stopped at a shop a little before her house. "I'll go on my own from here," She told him, and he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"You sure?" He asked, and she nodded. "Go back safely," She said. "Don't let any of the thugs here catch you." The teasing tone of her voice brought a smile to the older's face, and he agreed.

She turned around to head on her way before he called her again. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" He asked her, his eyes flickering down to her bruised wrist. She subtly tucked her hand into her pocket, nodding with a smile. "Thank you." She replied.

Baekhyun paused as if thinking, before saying, "Let me give you my number." Seulgi looked at him, confused, before hesitantly handing over her phone. "Call me if you ever need anything, yeah?" He said as his nimble fingers moved across the screen with surprising speed. "I'll pick up whenever, even if it's for something small, like hanging out or something. Speaking of which, would you like to do that sometime? Like, outside of school."

He spoke so fast Seulgi wondered if he had bothered taking breaths in between his words. She giggled softly, nodding." I'd like that. Thank you again, Baekhyun."

"Yeah." He smiled. "No problem." And with that, he turned around and walked back up the sloping road, the soft mist and the cigarette smoke that often filled the air of the neighborhood clinging to his clothes. Seulgi watched his retreating back with sharp eyes, feeling a small flutter of sadness in her chest, like a wounded butterfly.

She didn't plan on calling him for anything she'd need. She was too much of a burden to him already, with more of the people in her grade warning him against her. The other seniors seemed to also have taken a slight interest in her, with the occasional curious looks cast her way when Baekhyun spoke to her, but they were too busy wrapped up with their own problems to actually be concerned about their silver-haired friend suddenly taking interest in a nobody.

A nobody.

That's all she'd ever be. That was the shell molded for her by society, and that was what she would have to adjust to herself to fit into. It didn't matter whether she had a vibrant personality, a smile brighter than the sun, or even a heart of gold. It was the material wealth she possessed that determined where she stood, and right now, it was at the very bottom of the social ladder.

She hesitantly opened the door to the small, cramped one-bedroom apartment that her father, mother, and her shared. It wasn't a bad place to live in. If they could clean it up a bit, it would even be cozy. Alas, none of them bothered to pick up the empty glass bottles strewn across the floor, the old newspapers and cardboard boxes, the unfolded laundry, and small plates.

Her father seemed to be passed out on the tiny couch opposite the dingy television, the screen black as of now. She breathed a soft sigh of relief, tiptoeing around the mess on the floor, making her way towards the room that was hers.

Her mother worked through the night, often coming back home when Seulgi was going to school, so she would make her bed then. Her father often drunk himself to sleep on the couch after a stressful day of work, so she was free to study in peace in the comfort of the one bedroom.

"Where," She froze when she heard her father slur from behind her. "Where were you?"

She turned with a fake smile on her face, hoping it would appease the evident anger in the man's voice.

"I was at school," She said softly, having learned the hard way that talking a little too loud would not bring out the best in an intoxicated person. "At school?" Her father swayed as he stood on his feet, taking drunken steps towards her. She didn't try to move, knowing it was of no use.

"Yeah, I was tutoring a fellow classmate." She said, fear beginning to form in the shape of a cold coil in the pits of her stomach, hands crossed behind her back, fingers clenched into fists as she tried to control the trembling.

"You were tutoring? Helping a rich kid?" Her father asked, voice steadily rising. "Why are you helping them? Aren't you supposed to be the top of the class?"

"That's why my teacher asked me to help them-" She flinched as her dad brought up his hand, the sound of the hit resounding throughout the room.

"HAVE YOU ALREADY RESIGNED YOURSELF TO BECOMING A SERVANT OF THE RICH?" He bellowed, and all Seulgi could do was curl into herself bracing her body the best she could for the impact. "HAS THE EFFORT YOUR MOTHER AND I PUT INTO YOUR EDUCATION BEEN FOR NOTHING?"

She shook her head, biting her lip hard as she tried to muffle her cries, inching backward slowly, attempting to put some sort of distance between him and her. "I'm sorry," She choked out, instinctively using her arms to block the next hit. It stung, she wanted to cry out so badly, but that much weakness was never the thing to show in situations like these.

"I won't anymore, please." She said in a pleading tone. "Please."

Maybe it was something in her voice, maybe it was the hits that made him come to his senses, or maybe it was the soft paternal love he had once felt for her that awakened, but he turned his back on her, snarling, "Go to your room."

She stumbled into the room, shutting the door as quietly as she could, and then locking it.

Seulgi slid to the ground with her back to the piece of flimsy wood as the only barrier between her and the danger that stood in the living, and she cried.

She cried and cried and cried, because it didn't matter how many times her skin had been painted red, blue and purple by the pain, it didn't matter how many times she'd heard the same abusive words, she wasn't immune to it, and she never would be.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

The next day, she woke up a little earlier than usual to dab some of her mother's old concealer on her arm, so that neither the woman who brought her into this world nor any of the kids at school would find out about the array of colorful bruises that stood out against her pale skin.

She went on with a smile when she saw Baekhyun, and she continued through her day as normal, because this sort of thing was normal. She shouldn't be making a big deal out of it. It was just how her family was. Her father cared for her, she knew it.

He still loved her enough to ensure she ate, went to school, got high scores in tests because that would bring her a stable future. It was her fault, she shouldn't haven't loitered around with Baekhyun, she shouldn't have put herself in a position where she had to lie. She should be a more obedient daughter from now on, she told herself. She'd be fine.

Baekhyun brought two of his friends for the first time along with him for lunch. He had a project to finish, and neither Seulgi nor the other two, who she learned were named Jongdae and Seokjin, minded sitting with each other.

She gave them what she hoped was a warm smile, and silently watched them work on their project.

It started raining in the afternoon. Seulgi stood to understand the archway of the school entrance, frowning as she tried to think of a way to walk to her neighborhood without getting her bag too wet. It was raining rather heavily, the water would definitely soak through the black cloth of her school bag.

Her savior arrived in the form of her only friend, Baekhyun offering to walk her home with his umbrella in hand. Regardless of the umbrella, they both got soaked, but she was able to somewhat protect her bag at least.

They stopped at the same place, beside the small shop. A few steps further and she would be able to reach her house without getting too wet.

Baekhyun looked at her, before he quietly said, "You should get that arm checked out." Suddenly, the warm, fluttering feeling of happiness disappeared in her chest as her breath hitched, her eyes slowly lowering to the mess her arm was, the concealer slowly being washed off by the rain.

"How did that happen?" He asked her, fingers gently circling her wrist as he brought it up to inspect it further.

She wriggled her arm out of his grasp, a lie slipping easily through her teeth as if it was second nature to her now. "I fell." She said, looking down in an attempt to look embarrassed. "I'm rather clumsy."

Baekhyun was silent for a bit, looking her up and down as if wondering if she was hiding any more bruises, before humming out an affirmation. "Be careful." He said, before shooing her off.

She uttered a quick thanks, before running. Seulgi could still feel his burning gaze on her back, so she made a small show of nearly slipping in a puddle, the loud, "What did I just tell you?" echoing behind her bringing a small smile to his face as she waved, ducking underneath the roof of her home, hurrying to her bedroom when she noticed it was empty.

She hadn't entirely convinced him, she knew. He was waiting for an opportunity to ask her, she could see the burning question in his eyes every time he looked at her, eyes flickering down to her arm, wrist, once on her cheek.

His friends seemed to fall for her lies, or they never cared much about the injuries to really bother reading into it. She was no longer a broken masterpiece. Her body was a marionette and her mind was the puppeteer. Her expressions and movements were like a controlled doll, trying to get through life. But Baekhyun would watch her in silence, an unreadable expression of his face as she spun tale after tale to explain each new blossoming bruise on her body.

He finally caught her off guard when he phrased his question differently a few weeks later. "Who hurt you?" He asked her simply, the two of them walking slowly down the road.

She flinched, turning to face him in surprise. "What?" He asked her. "You're a good liar, Seul." He said, patting her head gently. "And I won't say I've known you long enough to know exactly when you lie, but I think I've got it right most of the time."

She stayed silent. It wasn't easy, explaining her situation to someone. How could she make him understand her father was hurting her because he cared? He was just trying to ready her for the ways of the world. When he was sober he would shower her with love, and when he was intoxicated he would teach her that the world wasn't always soft and beautiful, it was harsh and bloody, and you had to be prepared to do anything to get to the top.

"What would you do if you knew?" She asked him softly. Baekhyun looked surprised, before letting out an exhale followed by a low chuckle. "I don't know," He said honestly. "I didn't think that far ahead. I thought I'd have to prod and poke you for a little longer before I got my answer." 

She smiled, and shook her head, but didn't answer him. He didn't pry further, looking slightly satisfied that he'd gotten some sort of confirmation. He reminded her that he was always there, and for the first time, Seulgi turned to him and told him the same.

"I don't have a lot to offer," She said nervously, picking at the hem of her skirt. "But you can rely on me too." When she looked up, he was beaming, looking the happiest she'd ever seen him.

She told him the next day, during lunch when they were alone together. It felt weird not having the chatter of Seokjin and Jongdae as they made fun of each other. She'd quickly gotten accustomed to their presence during the week.

"My father is an," She paused, poking the dirt with a small twig she had found. "Alcoholic, I suppose."

Baekhyun said nothing, but she could feel his gaze on her. She didn't look up, intently focusing on phrasing her story right while drawing a stick figure on the ground.

"He gets angry easily when he's not in his right mind. This," She gestured to the pattern of bruises hidden my the slightly long sleeve of her uniform. "This is the product of when I mess up."

"Mess up?" Baekhyun asked quietly. She could see his knuckles turning white from how hard she was clenching his fist. She reached over and tapped at his hand with her stick, his hand relaxing, the normal pallor returning as blood began to circulate again.

"If I don't do well in a test, or if I mess up dinner sometimes." She said nonchalantly. "What about your mom?" Baekhyun asked, and Seulgi could hear him gritting his teeth.

"She's always working." Seulgi shrugged. "She doesn't need to know."

Baekhyun seemed to still before he let out a deep sigh. "That's not a healthy environment." He said, curling his fingers. "It's fine, I can manage," Seulgi said, dropping her stick as she leaned back, placing her head against the wall as her eyes wandered up to the blue sky.

"Seulgi, you have to do something. It's not safe for you to stay there-"   
"Not all of us have the luxury of having another place to go, regardless of how unhealthy an environment is." She snapped, irritation bubbling in her chest, but it went away the second she saw the startled, hurt expression on his face.

Immediately, she bit her lip, guilt overloading her senses. A tense silence filled the space between them, before she muttered, "I'm sorry, that was really rude."

Baekhyun said nothing, pursing his lips before he nodded. "It's true, though."

All of a sudden, he slammed his fist against the hard-packed earth, startling Seulgi. "What the hell was that for?" She asked incredulously, grabbing his hand as she examined the scraped skin. "I have no idea what to do." He said calmly as if he hadn't just punched the ground.

"You were right, I have no idea what to do." He repeated, and this time she could see the crack in his calm mask, a wild, despondent look in his eyes as he mulled over the information she had revealed to him. "Police?" He asked softly, and she immediately shook her head.

"I feel better knowing someone else knows," She said with a smile. "You've helped me a lot already."

Baekhyun looked at her uncertainly, before running his free hand through his silver hair. "Just," He breathed. "Tell me if it gets too much."

Seulgi paused before she nodded.

That night, her mother came home early. She went to sleep with the sounds of the shouts and curses the two adults hurled at each other, her mother sensitive from the fatigue, and her father stressed from the amount of work.

When she woke up, her mother sat with her, the two quietly eating breakfast as her father bustled around, before leaving earlier than usual for his work. He held a low position in a large company, the income being enough to sustain their current lifestyle, but nothing more.

"I'm sorry you had to hear us, Seulgi." Her mother said, coaxing the black-haired girl to eat a little more. "Your father is a good man, we just have our differences."

A good man.

Seulgi gave her mother a thin smile, the words bouncing around in her head.

A good man.

A good man wouldn't hurt her, would he? He wouldn't raise his fists in a drunken rage, he wouldn't be drunk in the first place. He wouldn't blow money on poisoning his system in order to relieve his stress. It was just an endless cycle, one she didn't know how to pull out of. One her mother didn't even know existed, being so busy ensuring they had enough material wealth to survive that she neglected the psychological wealth in the form of memories and love she could have given Seulgi.

But bitterness never helped anyone, Seulgi thought as she bade the older woman goodbye, walking to school. She would have to learn to be independent, not a burden on people so that she would never have to put herself in any harmful situations.

Her phone pinged with a message from Baekhyun, a small smile curving her lips upwards when he asked her if she was on her way and she was safe.

She wouldn't want to be a burden to her only friend, the silver-haired boy who put a smile on her face every day during lunch and walked her home after school, introduced her to some of his loud friends, and in his own way, helped her wounds by subtly sliding medicines into her lunch bag.

She never could do much except let him talk as much as he wanted. He was more than just someone who had a seemingly perfect life. He had ideas, opinions and so much more about the world, reminding her of almost a curious child. He questioned everything and nothing, and she would nod along.

She wouldn't pressure him any further, he didn't deserve that. She wouldn't ask for his help unless she was absolutely in dire need of it, she decided.

She never thought that her first call to Baekhyun would be so soon.

A week ago, things had seemed to settle down. Her father was sober a bit more, giving her few glances and little praise to her work, which she was fine with. Her mother seemed to be less tired, she got to see her more often. Maybe things were finally looking up for Seulgi.

Until she fell to the second rank in her class test. It wasn't a bad score, with a difference of just one point. The kid, who usually didn't do very well, seemed to have put in a lot of effort. She could see the bags under the boy's eyes as he was proudly praised by the teacher.

She didn't think he had cheated. She wasn't hitter nor competitive. She could acknowledge when someone had worked hard, despite not necessarily liking the person.

Her father was a little more intoxicated than usual that night. He took it horribly.

For the first time, Seulgi ran away from the man, panic clouding her mind as she slammed the door of her room shut, trying to muffle his screaming and pounding on the wooden door.

It was thin, it was weak, it was flimsy, it was like her. And it would give way soon to the person behind it.

She was strong enough to handle it, she wasn't scared, she told her through her tears. It was a test of time to see whether she or the door would break first, and she did. She pounded the door back, possibly startling the other man, for there was a pause in his relentless actions. In that second, she grabbed her school bag and ran to the only window, opening it and leaping out.

She stumbled a bit as her feet hit the gravel and she ran for her life, vision blurry with the tears and head pounding from the lack of oxygen as her panic refused to subside, not allowing her lungs to draw breath.

She ran and ran and ran, until her legs almost gave way and she tripped, holding herself upright by taking the support of a nearby pole. She stopped to catch her breath, blinking as she looked around. She didn't know where she was.

In the dark of the night, the town she was supposedly so familiar with turned into a new place. She sat down on the cold concrete, forcing herself to take deep breaths and calm down. It worked, her heartbeat slowly going back to normal, and she looked up once again. She was near a bus stop, that's all she could tell.

She was lost, both literally and figuratively. She didn't know what to do now that she had run, she was terrified of being alone, she didn't know where to go.

She took out her phone, tears beginning to blur her vision once again. She couldn't call her mom, she couldn't call anyone. Her eyes landed on his name, and before she could even realize what she was doing, she has called Baekhyun.

He picked up on the third ring. "Hello?" His voice rang through the phone. A sob broke past her lips before she could stop it, pressing her hand over her mouth. "Seulgi?" She could hear the alarm in his voice as he continued to call her name. "Did something happen? Seulgi, where are you right now?"

"I don't know." She said, sniffling as she looked around. "I ran away, I was so scared of him and I ran away, I'm so stupid, Baekhyun, I am such an idiot-" "No, Seulgi, you're not." He cut her off firmly. "Now I need you to stay calm and describe the area around you, I'll come to pick you up."

"N-no," She said, startled. "You don't need to, I don't want to be a hassle-" "I'm not leaving you alone," Baekhyun said through the device.

Within minutes, he'd found her, sitting on a bench nearby, legs pressed to her chest as she curled up. Her heart clenched when he sat beside her and softly pulled her into a hug.

She broke.

She turned her face into his chest as she cried, clutching into his shirt tightly. "It's okay," He whispered, attempting to soothe her. She sobbed until she could no more, until it felt like she had been wrung dry of every last tear, and she pulled away, sniffling as she hastily wiped her face.

She looked up at Baekhyun hesitantly, the pity mixed with worry on his face making her feel small and helpless. She looked away, and began picking at the hem of her t-shirt.

"What do I do now?" She whispered. "I can't go back there right now."

There was a brief silence, before Baekhyun said, "If you're comfortable with it, I can let you stay at my house for the night. I was with Jongdae because my parents weren't home." He flushed when she blinked at him, hurriedly waving his hands. "I didn't mean it like that, I won't harm you or anything and there are extra rooms, and I promise it's safe-"   
She smiled at him softly. She doubted he would even try to hurt her, he just didn't seem like that type of a person.   
She mulled over the idea, turning it over in head as if trying to see the pros and cons, when in reality, it was either that or sleeping here on the bench, and the latter didn't sound very pleasing.

"If you're okay with it." She bit her lip, unsure. Baekhyun let out a soft sigh of relief, patting her shoulder. "You're my friend." He grinned. "I'd do anything I could for you." She lowered her head at that, corners of her eyes stinging. Baekhyun didn't seem to notice, dialing something on his phone. 

Jongdae didn't mind, surprisingly, although he was a tad bit suspicious about Baekhyun suddenly deciding he could no longer spend the night at his house. She was sure she heard Seokjin and another unfamiliar voice scream loudly at Jongdae to tell Baekhyun something in the background, which made the older chuckle lightly. Ending the call, he smiled at her, fingers tugging the sleeve of her shirt as he gently guided her up, leading them away from the bench. 

Walking down the street, Seulgi looked up at Baekhyun, before muttering an apology. The boy turned to look at her in surprise, silver hair glinting under the streetlight. "It's not your fault." He said, before giving her a slight grin. "I'm glad you called me, instead of keeping this to yourself. It, it feels nice to be needed, to take care of someone." He glanced at her. "I feel like you actually trust me now."

"It's not like I never did trust you." She said defensively. "In the beginning, maybe."

In the beginning.

They really had been friends for a long time, hadn't they? Months had flown by. That brought a smile to her face, a similar one lighting Baekhyun's up. "You just seemed so closed off about your life for a bit." He said, moving his gaze up to the dark sky, devoid of clouds. "You," He paused, seemingly contemplating, phrasing what he was going to say, "You don't have to keep your suffering a secret. Tell someone, if not me. In fact," He turned to her, and for a second, she caught a glint of anger so primal in his usually warm, honeyed orbs that it sent shivers down her spine. "I think you should tell the police."

She immediately shook her head, clenching her fists. "It'll ruin them," She whispered. "My mother and father have never had an easy life, this would destroy all the effort it took to get here." She looked up at Baekhyun desperately. "Don't tell anyone, please." She pleaded. "Not, not until I'm ready."

Baekhyun looked unsure, seemingly still adamant, until he looked back at her face, and his eyes softened. "Okay," He said softly. "But we'll have to tell someone at some point. You can't keep living like this," He said, gesturing to the fresh bruises she had acquired from the night's ordeal. She bit her lip, nodding. She'd deal with that when it came up.

He paused, as if he said something else to say, before speaking. "Until then," He fidgeted with his fingers. "I, uh, know that I'm here to help. Always. You can keep coming to me for help, I'll always be there for you."

She nudged his hip with hers, giving him a smile. "I know." He looked down at her, stopping in the street as he grabbed her hand, forcing her to halt as well.

"Hold on a little longer, Seulgi." His voice had dropped lower, as he looked at her with such concern and care it made her want to cry again. "Everything is gonna get better, I promise."

She stepped forward, surprising the older by encircling her arms around his waist and pulling him into her embrace. "We'll hold on together, then." She said, her voice muffled by his shirt, still damp with her tears from earlier.

She felt safe, secure, and no longer did the flash of regret or guilt that she'd be bothering him burden her. She no longer felt like a doll. She felt human.

She didn't have to look up to know he was smiling.

She was the first member of the small family Byun Baekhyun had formed.


	4. Maniac | Part One

Lee Taeyong was a warrior. It was obvious in every curve and edge of his face, every twitch of his hands, every dainty movement of his lithe body. Taeyong, the boy with bleached hair and bruises on his face, was a warrior and he was waging war with the world. One glance at him, and you could tell from his hollow eyes and lips too red to be lip balm that he had fought too many battles. 

One look at the bruises that adorned his ribs, a violent purple and red array across his knuckles and obsidian blooming around his left eye, and one could conclude he had lost them too. But Taeyong ignored the sharp stares and wandering gazes as he walked down the halls. He tried to be strong, he really did - it wasn't hard for those who didn't know him to think he was just another rebellious kid, one that could be grouped in with the teenagers who came to school with piercings and smoked cigarettes. It was so easy to play pretend, to put on the mask of a madman, with messy hair and split lips. It was the persona he adopted when he went to the front of the class to present something when he went on stage to dance or act - mad, jerky movements with wild eyes and no morals because when he was in the spotlight was when he was the most feral, carnal version of him. He had no reservations and showed the world all his jagged edges and piercing shards. 

Taeyong was a raw, carnal being who had beaten into submission too often. 

He was called a maniac, a psychopath, someone who was rude, arrogant, aloof. It was ironic, for he spent his days in isolation or with other outcasts after being excluded by the other students, so why would they go around with their worthless rumors and meaningless whispers about how he thought he was the one to ignore them out of hubris? 

Jealousy, Taeil would say, shaking his head. The older would sit beside him on the rooftop of their apartment, and he would take a sip of the soft drink while his glasses would slide off his nose as he pored over his textbooks. "You have it all, don't you, Yong-ah? You've got a good family, good grades, and good looks. The only thing that's off about you..." Warm, earthy brown eyes would look at him over the rims of the plastic frame with a knowing look as he would trail off, and then Taeil would get back to his textbook because he had a dream. He had an aspiration, he knew what he wanted to do and where to go with his life, while Taeyong sat beside him on stone-cold rooftops in the late hours of the morning, shivering like a leaf in the wind, sure that he would be blown off the edge. And yet, that seemed like a much better option, because at least the wind would carry him with somewhere in mind, and it would be a better direction than him staring aimlessly into space, because he was so, so lost, and no one in this accursed town would help him because of he was, of what he was. 

"Get a girlfriend, Yong-ah." His mother would say adoringly, running her fingers through the fragile strands of hair that would snap any second, weakened from the bleach, just like how Taeyong's patience had been worn thin by her words. 

_What if I don't even like girls?_ He wanted to scream, he wanted to ask, he wanted to know. And then he kissed a boy, felt rough lips on his own, larger hands that held him like the glass doll he knew was. He liked it. 

Lee Taeyong liked being kissed by boys who would hold him like he mattered, with sparkling eyes and chapped lips and messy, windblown hair, who would smile down at him with tinted cheeks and reddened ears. Namjoon had tasted of mint and smelled of vanilla, and he had the biggest, stupidest smile on his face after, Taeyong couldn't help but grin back. It was the best kiss of his life, possibly the best thing to ever happen in his life. 

Naturally, something had to go wrong. 

It was like the whole town found out the next day. Stories of how a boy had kissed a boy in the dead of the night on the hood of a car passed around from mouth to mouth, and Taeyong had never wanted to disappear so badly. Never did he ever want to raze the whole place to the ground, yet here he stood in front of his parents with his head bowed, cheek stinging and eyes burning, hands itching to find any sort of incendiary device. He could watch every building crumble to ashes within the span of minutes, much like how his own life was disintegrating before his very eyes. 

"It's wrong!" His mother had screamed, had cursed, had wrung his hands, and clasped her own in prayer as she raised her eyes to the ceiling and wailed. Taeyong pressed his lips into a thin line and watched her with hooded eyes, exhaling deeply through his nose. His chest felt heavy, cheeks were red from her slaps, and wet with his tears. His lips were trembling and he felt weak, anxious, tired, and so, so scared. "You will burn in hell!" She shouted and mourned the loss of her son to the fiery hands of the devil, as if the very child she bore hadn't been standing in front of her, heart-shattering over and over again. He felt like his lungs were collapsing and his ribs were caving inwards, but physically, he could see nothing happen to his body. 

He drew a staggering breath, but couldn't remember how to let it out. Eventually, the panic and the reflexes kicked in and he pushed out the breath, but along with it came a fresh wave of tears, a pitiful noise escaping his throat as he choked up, averting his eyes. Maybe that was what snapped his father out of the daze he'd fallen into, watching his wife plead forgiveness from the Lord. 

"Enough with the theatrics." His deemed voice had boomed over the living room, effectively silencing the entire area with the shock of a sudden clap of thunder on a humid summer nice. He walked up to Taeyong, eyeing his shaking shoulders and white knuckles and the red imprint on his cheek, and let out a rattled sigh. "Let him be." His father said calmly, a firm hand clasping his shoulder. "It was a one-time thing, and it won't happen again, correct?" 

Taeyong didn't have a choice - he knew he didn't. As long as he stayed here, he would never have a choice in who he loved and he knew that, but all he had ever known was this town too, and so like the coward he was, he looked his father in the eye and nodded wordlessly. "It was," the words burned his tongue to say, the lie sharp on the muscle when it exited his mouth. "It was a mistake." He swallowed back the bitter taste at the back of his throat, eyes dropping to the carpeted floor. 

"We're human, Taeyong. It happens." His father's grip tightened on his shoulder for a second, before he let go, turning back to his mother. "Let the boy rest- the past few days have been very damaging for him. He will reflect over the weekend, and then go back to school on Monday." 

At that moment, his father looked like a hero to him, but when Taeyong curled up in his bed that night, pointedly ignoring the messages from friends he used to have, he realized that everyone was a villain in their own way. The rapt knocks on his door brought his attention to the looming figure who stood in his doorway. His father looked haggard and tired as he shuffled in, seating himself on the edge of his bed. 

"I've placated your mother for a while." He said, and Taeyong just nodded. His father was silent, observing him as if his expressions were written on his face like an open book. Taeyong shifted uncomfortably before his father spoke. "I really hope it was a mistake." He flinched, but the man had already looked away with a sigh. "I don't think it is right too- to love another man. But if you are gay, I can't do anything about it. I can't force you to love a woman." He looked back to Taeyong, fatigued. "The people in this town, however, won't accept you." He said carefully. "They will be like your mother, they will condemn you. For your sake, I hope it was a mistake." 

Taeyong was hurt. He was miserable, angry, and despondent. He wanted to curl under the blanket forever and never come out again. He wanted to feel safe, happy, and loved. He shouldn't have snapped, he shouldn't have said anything. But he let his tongue slip, and said lowly, "You're saying this for your own reputation too." 

Slow embers of fury came to life and burned in his father's eyes as the words hung in the air. His nostrils flared and he let out a scoff. "I'm doing this all for you." He said, standing up in anger. "It would be easy for me to sit back and watch the whole town curse you, it would be easy to disown you. I don't have to do any of this to protect you." 

_Then maybe you shouldn't._ He wanted to say but stopped because he was truly and utterly a coward. He was a child, a young teenager who couldn't force himself to leave the house and live on his own, because he was scared of the world. And after getting a glimpse of how the demons his mother preached about roaming in hell suddenly seemed to be roaming earth instead, he would take any protection. He bit the inside of his cheek, lowered his gaze and bowed his head for the umpteenth time that day, and uttered yet another quiet, broken apology that satisfied his father. 

He mulled over the conservation that night, the next morning, the next night until Monday rolled around and he had to drag himself to school. He mulled over the words and dissected their meanings and decided that being hidden was truly for the best. He ignored the maid's call for breakfast and left the house quietly, feeling eyes on him wherever he went. He was being watched and judged. 

_There goes another to the hands of the devil,_ he heard the whispers say. He wondered how Namjoon was dealing with it before he remembered - the older boy would be leaving for college within the next week, and he'd be left alone to deal with the aftermath of a spilled secret and ruined memory all alone. Despite the rising wave of bitterness, the golden drop of compassion and kindness in his heart rejoiced that at least one of them could be free from this town. Maybe the cities would be kinder and would let Namjoon hold and kiss anyone else he wants to. 

But his town wasn't as compassionate as he had hoped they would be, because that afternoon, he limped all the way back home and snuck into his room with bruises and aching limbs as warnings from others to 'not make the same mistake ' with them. Prey on the weak, he wanted to sneer at them while the tips of their shoes made contact with his stomach, ribs, chest. Prey on the strong when they are weak, prey on the weak when they are weaker. Prey on those who you once called a friend. 

He heard the girls dare boys to talk to him as if he was repulsive, he heard boys scoff at how feminine he was and how they never realized it before. Taeyong was an outcast, utterly alone, and that's how the daily fights started. He wondered if being so detached from these people was even that bad. 

The rumors eventually died down, the memory just another interesting tale to tell when someone remembered the uproar a boy kissing another had caused. The reputation stayed, however. Taeyong had made a few more friends, those who were open-minded and didn't mind the biting remarks that others spat at them for being his friend, but he wasn't close with them. It was a 'oh, we're both alone, tired and sick of the world right now. Let's hang out until we find other things to do,' sort of situation, and he was fine with it. He had his grades and he had his family, who were becoming increasingly welcoming after he agreed to get a girlfriend. 

He asked out a girl he didn't even like, which sort of diminished the rumors that he was gay and stopped them from circulating any further. He broke up with her a few weeks later, but at least he diminished the number of people who actually knew the truth by accident. He got into acting, found out he had a flair for dance, still ignored the people in the hallways. The beating up that had started back then continued until now, but he never tried fighting back. He got up each time, brushing off the dust of his now crumpled uniform, wiped the blood from his nose or lip, and trudged home. 

When he was stressed, he would resort to dyeing his hair because it angered the school more, but he was always safe. His father's influence reached far and wide in this small, miserable town, and it had been a test of time before Taeyong caved and used those connections to his advantage. 

"You're going to die from the amount of bleach you've used." Yuta once told him, and Taeyong had smiled at him from across the table, the two of them in a secluded corner of the lunchroom, as he took a slow sip from the milk carton. "Maybe I want to." He'd told the other cheerfully, who rolled his eyes in response. Taeyong wondered if the other knew he hadn't been entirely joking. If he did, did he even care? 

Probably not, and Taeyong didn't blame him. He didn't blame Taeil for not being able to give him any more time, the older by two years overwhelmed with exams, assignments, and college preparations. Taeyong knew he would leave and never return, much like Namjoon had. He only hoped one day his hard work would pay off and then he could run into the sunset with freedom trailing behind him as the chains he had on his ankles and wrists would shatter. 

It was the only thing that kept him going. Do one more performance for the credits, stay back one more hour to clean and get on the teacher's good side, get one hour less of sleep to perfect this assignment- it was all for his freedom. It was all for him to escape this cage and enjoy his life, and it didn't matter to him if he was burnt out at the end of it. He could enjoy the ashes of his willpower, the ache in his limbs, and the cloudy haze of fatigue over his mind in peace, at the very least. 

When he'd been given the chance to perform a dance with another for the farewell of the graduating batch, he had blinked in surprise, before nodding. The assistant had clearly been in a rush, papers tumbling out of her hands to the floor while she tried to give him details which he missed in the whirlwind of panicked stutters until she'd given up and just told him that classroom 108 would be ready for dance practice that evening. He had watched her rush off, before heaving a sigh and turning back to his locker. So his partner for the dance was a mystery, and he'd have to wait for at least two more hours before he could expect the other to show up. 

He yawned, turned around, and ambled down the corridor to go out to the grounds. 

_Big mistake._

He thought everyone had left, but he'd walked right into the same group - it was always them who left him bloodied and bruised. This time was no exception, except that his wounds from last time hadn't healed. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and he couldn't breathe. He curled up into a ball, trying to absorb the impact of the constant kicks, and wondered if it would be so bad to die here. 

He was left there, bleeding and bruised as air rattled in his lungs as he unfurled himself. Taeyong swayed from side to side as he unsteadily stood on his feet, and walked away like he always did. Lift your chin, square your shoulders, no matter how much it hurts. Don't show them that you're weak. Don't let them see your jagged edges and shattered image. Don't let them see anything, ever. He stumbled, wincing, and an unbidden pitiful noise left his mouth, and he heard them laughing, cruel, and low. 

His chest hurt, like roses were blooming inside the crevices of his ribs and their thorns were piercing every organ. He pushed forward, he kept walking and walking and walking until he could no longer and collapsed behind a wall once he no longer heard the sound of their insults or jeers. He curled up in the alley, hand pressed to his mouth as muffled sobs spilled from his mouth when his arms stung with the pain. 

How could he dance like this? 

How could he walk like this? How could he live like this, all alone and miserable? He was trapped forever by the stone walls and gravel filled roads and the blue sky that did nothing but serve as a cage above his head for the ruined vestiges of his mortal body, and he wondered what it would be like to just leap and feel his body crash to the ground, yet at the same time feel like he would be flying far past the clouds. 

He tipped his head back, knees pulled up to his chest and hands resting at his side. He wanted to give up, he wanted to grasp at any last strand of hope that he would never be presented with, he wanted to let go of everything and fall. He wanted it to end. 

"It's scary, but- Oh!" A voice startled him, making him flinch violently, eyes flying open to stare at the two figures before him, staring down at him in concern. "Are you okay?" The boy asked, eyes wide with shock and lips parted in surprise. The girl beside him shifted lightly, lips curving downwards. "He's bleeding," She said quietly. 

Bleeding? 

His fingers came up, gingerly touching the edge of his mouth, eyes dropping to the side of his shirt, where splotches of vermilion stained the once pristine white uniform. They kicked hard enough to cut, to scar. He let out a choked sound, a miserable amalgamation of a chuckle, and cry because it hurt and he was in pain, and he wanted it to all stop. Taeyong wanted to shut his eyes forever and never wake up again, because if he did he'd be waking up to suffer once again in a world of monsters and chains and gags that held him down and muffled his screams. 

"We need to take you to the infirmary." The boy leaned down, fingers circling his arm, and Taeyong jerked away with a soft whimper, shaking his head. He must have looked pitiful, he knew. He didn't have the strength in him right now to be embarrassed, he'd faced enough humiliation and hatred for a lifetime. 

The girl crouched forward in front of him. He blinked, tears blurring his vision so much he could barely make out her silhouette. Then came the softest brush of her fingertips against his hand, and she said quietly, "We are not going to hurt you." 

He froze, a shaky exhale leaving his lips. The girl retracted her hand, turning back. "The nurse won't be there this late, right?" She asked, and he could make out the boy nodding. He didn't care, she never would have helped him anyway. "You can't stay out here," The boy said firmly. "Even if you plan to go to the infirmary, it'll be painful for you. Let us help you." 

He didn't want help, he didn't want to be weak, he didn't want to be the bottom of the food chain. But even Taeyong couldn't ignore the shattered facade and mask that lay in his hands now, how his only protection from the world had been beaten out of him. He briefly shut his eyes, and pain overwhelmed him like a tidal wave when he shifted slightly, trying to get up again. He felt gentle hands hold his arms and lift him up with the tenderness of handling literal glass vases or fragile artwork. 

The two slung his arms around their shoulders, and together, the trio hobbled across the grounds towards the small one-room building tucked away in the corner, but every time he felt like he was nothing more than a crumbling tower of sand sandwiched between their firm holds, they pressed closer and held him tighter, and for the first time, he felt safe. 

Lee Taeyong felt safe in the hands of strangers who dabbed cotton at the blood that trickled down the side of his mouth and to the cut on his cheek, felt safe in the small hands of the girl who offered him an ice pack in the infirmary, devoid of any human life. And when he looked up to the two of them, vision a little clear now that the haze of pain and the tears had subsided a little, he had no idea how to repay them. 

If they did, neither said anything. "I'm Seulgi." The black-haired girl looked at him, a small smile on raw bitten lips, and he felt a strange sense of comfort upon seeing they both shared a habit, something he did that slowly chipped away bits of himself. He turned his gaze to the boy who stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest as he glowered at the wall, gaze softening when he met Taeyong's eyes. 

His breath hitched. The boy was stunning, with silver strands catching the sunlight and weaving them to a form a glittery net over the boy's head. He had a soft nose, plush lips, and a sharp jaw, but the contours and planes of his features were softened when he smiled lightly at Taeyong. "I'm Baekhyun." He said, before glancing at the clock worriedly. 

He followed suit, heart leaping into his throat when he saw the time. If he stayed here any longer, he'd be late to meet the boy he had to dance with. He couldn't afford to have rumors of him slacking on the job coupled with bad chemistry with the boy. Before he could open his mouth to say anything, Baekhyun looked worriedly at Seulgi. 

"I have to meet that kid." He said quietly, and Seulgi looked faintly puzzled at the statement, mirroring Taeyong's own confusion. "The farewell dance performance," He clarified, before giving Taeyong an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry, but I'll be gone for about ten minutes, maybe? I'll just let him know I can't make it for practice, and then we can talk more, okay?" 

He blinked, something akin to dread and turmoil churning in his stomach as he watched the other turn to go before his lips moved of their own accord and he blurted out, "I'm supposed to be there for the performance too." Baekhyun froze, head tilted slightly as he looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You're Lee Taeyong?" He asked carefully after a pregnant pause. 

He nodded. 

The simple action seemed to make time go slower as if someone had managed to reduce the speed of time in order to view every detail of the scene happening with absolute clarity. Taeyong saw the way Baekhyun's mouth fell agape, the furrowed brow disappear as his eyes widened. Everything about him came undone as he stared at the fallen dancer, the bruised boy he'd carried to the infirmary who was known to be an utter maniac on the stage, and Taeyong could feel the tip of his ears go red as he forced himself to look down, shame and embarrassment at the fact that this was his first impression on his partner burning him. 

The seconds passed by like they were wading through honey, until Baekhyun broke the silence with a soft, "Oh." He seated himself beside Seulgi on the edge of the bed, staring at Taeyong cautiously, eyes raking over the black and brown bruises that littered his arms. "I see." 

The weight of their gazes was too heavy for his liking, too intense and he wondered if he was in the wrong - the performance wouldn't go well because he was injured and wouldn't be able to practice. "I'm sorry." He said quietly, and he saw Seulgi start in surprise. "What are you sorry for?" She asked him, clearly startled. "For-for this." He gestured vaguely to his predicament, this situation that led the three of them to be stuck in this room. "Thank you, and I'm sorry." 

"Was this a product of your own doing?" Baekhyun's question, blunt and sharp at the same time caught him off guard, threw off Taeyong's train of thought as he stared at the older, Seulgi mimicking him with her jaw slack. He hesitated, flashes of the boys and their violent antics playing like a video on loop in his mind, but the hesitation and eventual subtle shake of his head seemed to give Baekhyun the answer he wanted. Taeyong wanted to stop playing pretend, to stop lying that his injuries were from falling one too many times while dancing when he could barely walk without feeling like he would break, shatter into a million fragments in any second. 

"Then you've got nothing to be sorry for," Baekhyun said firmly, before heaving a heavy sigh. "It's a shame," He said with a forlorn smile. "I had been looking forward to seeing you dance. I've heard a lot about you." 

He didn't know if he should read into the words or take them at their face value, but after years of seeing heavenly smiles and angelic voices that told him they would never leave his side, only to watch them turn into devils with tongues as sharp as knives and fists that felt like a rock on his skin, discomfort churned in his stomach as he stared at Baekhyun and Seulgi. 

The silence was like a heavy, uncomfortable blanket over the three of them, but none seemed inclined to break it. All he could hear was the breath rattling in his lungs as Seulgi put away the ointments, her dull gaze turning on him once again.

"Thank you. " He whispered, even the low, rough drag of his voice echoing in the room. He glanced at Baekhyun, who was already staring at him with a hard look in his eyes, making Taeyong want to shrink back.

"I'll work hard-" "Who were they?" Both jumped at the sound of their voices in unison, blinking at each other, unsure of when to speak.

"You're injured," Seulgi interjected, incredulity in her tone and eyes widening at the edges. "And you're saying you're going to work hard?"

Taeyong blinked at her, passing right over the ridiculousness of his own words. "The farewell can't be delayed." He said slowly, before shifting his glance down to the ice pack he held against his ribs. "And I can't say I've danced with worse, but this is fairly normal."

He was smart enough to know it was normal - his normal, not theirs. This would be their occasional, their 'bad day', the consequence of a mood swing, and getting into a scuffle they couldn't handle.

It was his normal, and just like everything else about him, he knew it was different.

"Being bruised is normal to you?" Something in the girl's tone made him look up at her, into swirling obsidian eyes that looked like they held immense sadness, and he couldn't fathom why. "Yeah." He said, and even he could discern the final note of resignation on his voice.

"It's normal."

Silence, again.

Seulgi fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. Her eyes shifted to Baekhyun, whom Taeyong could see staring back at her knowingly as if they both knew something he didn't.

Before he could open his mouth, Baekhyun broke the silence, eyes narrowed, and voice firm. "It shouldn't be."

_I know._

Taeyong lowered his gaze, staring at the mold that was beginning to form at the bottom of the wall, slowly climbing its way up. A parasite. He chuckled lowly, briefly shutting his eyes, vividly seeing the same image burned into the back of his eyelids.

At least it was good at something, it went up the wall. He felt like he was being stomped down before he could even take a step off the ground.

No one said another word, but somehow, in the still quiet trapped within the mold-covered pasty green walls, Taeyong found acceptance, found security. Even when Seulgi's phone rang and she hurried outside with mild fear in her eyes, even when he heard the loud yelling off a man over the despite the distance, even Baekhyun sat directly in front of him and touched the bruise on his cheek and made him flinch, he felt secure.

"Let's be friends, Lee Taeyong," Baekhyun said, the softest hints of a friendly smile blunting the sharp planes of his face as he tilted his head. His breath caught in his throat, Taeyong blinked, eyes wandering over the strands of silver to the plum-stained lips, and all he could think of was how he was really going to regret it all.

"I don't want pity." He said roughly, but even then, Baekhyun sat there undeterred. "Then you shall not get it." He said simply, briefly glancing over to Seulgi with evident concern, before turning back to him.

He tried not to feel disappointed with himself - he had known this boy for an hour, and a crush had already blossomed. He'll be disgusted if he knew what you are, the inner voice reprimanded. Pretty sure he already does, Taeyong argued back, all while he kept his lips sealed and expression purposefully blank.

"We'll be doing the performance together, after all," Baekhyun said, lazily stretching his arms over his head, akin to the stray cats Taeyong had seen wander across the wooden sill of his window. "You're not going to change partners?" Even to him, his voice sounded distant, yet so shocked.

Baekhyun gave him a wry smile, acknowledging Seulgi with a quick nod as the girl re-entered the room with a soft apology. "Do you have to go?" He asked her, and she gave Taeyong a hesitant look.

He recognized the pale face, drained off blood, took into account the clenched fists and stiff legs, the way she dropped her gaze immediately after making eye contact. Was she in trouble?

"Thank you for your help, but I'll be fine." He said, as gently as he could. "You can leave too, I'll get home soon." He glanced at the clock, the hour hand nearing six pm. He noticed the rapidly fading light outside and suppressed a groan, not wanting to walk all the way home.

"I'll take you." Baekhyun glanced him over, turning to Seulgi, asking her a silent question to which she waved him off. "I'll call you after." She said shortly, picking up the worn-out red bag she'd dropped near the edge of the bed.

She paused in front of Taeyong, eyes wandering over his face, before tentatively smiling. "I'll see you tomorrow." She said, before rushing out the door, hair flapping wildly as the two of them watched her rush across the school grounds.

Baekhyun looked worried, before turning back to him with a smile. "Can you walk, or do you want to sit a bit? I'm free for the rest of the day anyway," He added, seeing Taeyong glance worriedly at the time. Taeyong sighed, slumping down. "I'd like to sit a little longer." He buried his face in his hands, answer coming out muffled. "Of course." He felt Baekhyun shift slightly, getting into a more comfortable position.

"I don't want to change partners." Taeyong peeked at the older from between his fingers, frowning. "What?" He asked, and Baekhyun looked at him. "That's what I was saying before. I don't want to change partners."

"I'm not worth sacrificing the entirety of the farewell performance for," Taeyong argued, sitting up straighter with a wince. "I can't even move properly." Baekhyun paused, eyes flickering over his uniform-clad body, before shrugging. "If you don't want to do it, I won't force you to." He said lowly. "If you're up for it, then I'll gladly help."

"I'd be your friend even if you didn't want to perform," Baekhyun continued, catching Taeyong by surprise. "So that's a given." 

Taeyong frowned. "You don't have to feel sorry for me, okay?" He snapped. "I get that you and Seulgi have good hearts, but-but I don't. I don't need pity friends, I have enough."

Baekhyun stared at him an eyebrow raised. "I don't feel sorry for you." He said, before pursing his lips. "Well, I do. Anyone would if they saw someone in this state, but few would be their friend because of it. You just seem cool." "Seem cool," Taeyong repeated, unimpressed. A small hint of pride surfaced when Baekhyun flushed, the tip of his ears turning red. "Shut up." The older grumbled, looking away.

"We don't have to be, but I want to be friends." He said, and Taeyong stared at him.

Stared and stared and stared and stared, as if the intense glare would strip away Baekhyun's persona and reveal the malice and motive, but nothing happened. Not after thirty seconds, not after a minute, not after two.

The older turned, giving a lopsided grin. "What?" He asked.

And maybe Taeyong was an idiot, crazy, loopy, stupid, or just really, really lonely, because, with a resigned sigh of defeat, he gave the older an attempt at an equally friendly smile, and nodded.

"Okay," He shrugged. "Why not?"

Baekhyun looked like Christmas had come early, letting out a loud whoop that echoed over the empty school grounds. 

Taeyong wondered if he was making the biggest mistake of his life. He hoped that years down the line, he would look back to this moment in time and tell himself he hadn't.


	5. Maniac | Part Two

He felt happy.

He felt the happiest he had in a long, long time, merely sitting by this boy's side. He smiled the widest, just by stretching in the empty classroom with all the desks pushed to the side, a makeshift mirror with afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows left partially ajar. Seulgi sat cross-legged at the side, lips parted in surprise as she watched them warm-up before Baekhyun motioned for her to play the song.

Taeyong decided he liked the song.

The beginning was slow, sultry yet innocent, an eerie hollow to the words of the first few verses and the bridge until the chorus burst into existence with a bang. Instantly, the song transformed from something delicate to something rawer - the vocals were harsh and rough, calling on for stronger moves and stronger beats. His heart raced with the speed that bled into the rest of the song, and when it ended, he blinked.

"The school chose that?" He asked, shaking himself out of his stupor. Baekhyun shook his head, raising his arms over his head as he popped the joints of his shoulders. "I did." He corrected, smiling at Taeyong's reflection in the mirror when his eyes widened. "You have good taste." Taeyong blinked, looking away.

"Thank you." He could hear the pleased tone, making him shake his head lightly. They had two weeks to choreograph a dance to the song, a short amount of time even when Taeyong had forced himself out of bed a mere two days after the incident with the boys. His parents hadn't been home to ask why his pale skin was littered with ugly bruises. They'd been at the next town, attending to the company's needs, and while Taeyong used to resent the irony of being the caged son of people who travelled more than anyone else in the time, he was grateful for their absence. He doubted they'd be okay with the fact that he would be alone with a boy, despite the number of church sessions and community service he had done in the past two months to atone for his sin.

"So, where do you want to start?" Baekhyun asked him. Taeyong exhaled through his nose, eyes on his form in the mirror. "Let's start from the beginning." He said softly, looking at the black-haired girl in the corner, who nodded.

"I usually just freestyle for a bit, if that's okay." He looked uncertainly at Baekhyun, who, on the contrary, looked absolutely delighted. "Go ahead." He raised his hands, strolling over to where Seulgi sat, resting his back on the desks. "The stage is all yours."

Taeyong said nothing, swallowing nervously. Don't fear the eyes on you, he remembered the soft words of his first-ever trainer, a kind woman with smooth skin and a scowl on her face, but with the most tender eyes that would look at him with pride - he hated seeing the disappointment in anyone's expression, especially directed towards him. Little did he know, he would have that very same look directed to him for ages.

_You become the music when you dance - show the audience you embody the beauty of that which they cannot see but only hear. ___

__When the first notes rang through the empty classroom, Taeyong started. His arms moved, then his torso, then his feet. He glided and twirled, he kept his movements as sharp and clean as possible. With every glimpse in the mirror, all he could see was content, peace and stillness on his features, until the bass dropped._ _

__The music demanded something harder, something less delicate and more savage, with all the elegance of royalty draped in gold and diamond. Whatever the song demanded, Taeyong would give, because if he couldn't impress the people that walked the earth, those who didn't matter, he would give up his soul in order to impress the notes and rhythms that his heartbeat adjusted and thrummed to, that his brain registered and tuned into. Go mad, the drums urged, break apart, the guitar strummed._ _

__He did._ _

__He pushed himself to his limits and beyond, unaware of the two pairs of eyes that watched the performance, oblivious to the attention on him. For two more minutes, nothing existed except the music, mirror, and him. It was this bubble of space Taeyong immersed himself into every time he danced, this feeling of utter oblivion of his surroundings, the desolation that nothing else was even there in this vacuum that held nothing more than his flesh, bones, and notes._ _

__And then came the silence which rung in his ears, louder than his harsh breathing as he hunched over, mind trying to register the movements that felt right and the movements that hadn't._ _

__It was broken by the soft, "wow", that echoed in the silence, and the illusion snapped. Taeyong straightened, brushing the blond strands out his vision as he eyed Seulgi, who sat, staring at him with her mouth agape. "You're really good." She whispered, eyes shining. It was the most emotion he'd seen her display over the course of three days because taut smiles and broken conversations meant nothing to either of them, and they both knew it. He appreciated the effort, nonetheless._ _

__"Thank you." He said, shuffling light, before slowly shifting his gaze to Baekhyun, who gave him an impassive look, before inhaling sharply. "That was insane." He said, and Taeyong registered the awe in his voice as pride bloomed in his chest, making him shake his head._ _

__"I have a few ideas." He said, and instantly, Baekhyun was up, nodding eagerly. "Let's see them." He clapped lightly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. With a quick request to Seulgi, the music filled the classroom once again._ _

__Only when Baekhyun had called for a break, offering to get lunch from the nearby convenience store and running off without waiting for a reply, did Taeyong actually realize how tired he was. He collapsed on the floor, leaning against the mirror and putting his head between his knees, breathing hard. The quiet shuffle of feet told him Seulgi was approaching him, the slide of her jacket down the mirror as she sat down quietly a telltale sign._ _

__It wasn't cosy, but it wasn't uncomfortable. From whatever Taeyong could tell, Seulgi was always this quiet. The only time he really heard her speak was when she was around Baekhyun, and even then she'd get encouraging motions from him. If he frowned and sifted through the vague recollections of wandering around the school during the lunch hours, either alone or accompanied by the loud banter of Yuta and Youngho, he could recall seeing her slip through the crowds easily, almost isolated in her own bubble. Being in the year below him, he couldn't necessarily blame himself for not being consciously aware of her existence - he wasn't even aware of the new people who'd transferred into his own class at the beginning of the new academic year._ _

__Sure, he'd heard her name a couple of times, now that he thought about it. Kang Seulgi, the only girl who'd actually been awarded the scholarship to this school which was known to be atrociously difficult to acquire. Taeyong would know, his father had been one of the people who'd worked with the education board to plan out the requirements and the tests. It would have been only a matter of time before they met, having their names dragged down by overlapping insults, but this hadn't been what he'd been expecting._ _

__He wondered what she would have heard about him, in turn. Perhaps how hanging around him only brought you a bad name, because even if he wasn't gay, he was rude and arrogant, flaunting his parent's money and prestige at every chance he got. He only got the main roles in the school plays because his father was one of the founders of the school and helped its scholarships. He wasn't actually talented at dancing, it was the fear factor that got him where he was today._ _

__A little sigh left his lips as he turned his head to look at her, peering at the girl over his arm. She had her gaze fixed on the ground, absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. He waited for her to speak, to break the evident wall of ice between the two, because out of them, Taeyong trusted himself less than he trusted an almost stranger, which was pathetic in its own right._ _

__"Where did you learn to dance?" She asked softly. The corners of Taeyong's lips curved upwards into a small smile. "Originally picked a little up from the Internet," He said, "And then my parents sent me to different professionals." She let out a little hum, still not quite looking at him. "How does your face do that thing?" Seulgi asked, once again._ _

__Taeyong blinked, tilting his head slightly. "What thing?" "You know," She looked at him hesitantly, and poked her cheek. "That thing. Where you look all scary and like you are the lyrics." He stared at her, and she quickly looked back down, before he let out a chuckle. "Maniac?" Her head whipped up at the word, looking slightly guilty. He waved off the incoming apology, settling from drumming his fingers against the stone-cold floor of the room._ _

__"Maybe it's just who I am." He shrugged. "These types of songs suit me well." "They do." Seulgi nodded, and Taeyong felt triumphant, complimented on his dance and being able to hold on for this long._ _

__He looked her up and down, before pursing his lips as he eyed her figure. She was evidently petite, her narrow build only accentuated by the loose clothes that hung off her. It just occurred to her that she would look good at dancing too._ _

__"What about you? Do you dance?" He asked. Seulgi glanced at him, before shaking her head. "I," She looked away, and Taeyong could see the rosy tinge creeping up the blemished skin at the back of her neck. "Just never had the chance to professionally."_ _

__He blinked, confused, before it hit him. "Ah, the scholarship. " He asked, and the way she flinched was a dead give away to the number of times it had been used as an insult. "I didn't mean it like that!" He rushed to amend the statement that had slipped out of his mouth, but all she'd given him was the slightest shake of her head, and he fell silent._ _

__As someone who knew first hand how words pierced the last dregs of self-esteem you had, he had been rather insensitive, regretfully so. "Sorry." He breathed out, looking down at his hands in his lap, the skin hardening over the scratches on the heels of his palms from the incident a few days ago._ _

__Seulgi said nothing, either to hurt or too upset to utter another word to him. Or maybe it was just her relapsing into her usual silence. Taeyong didn't think he knew her well enough to say, and thus felt the urge to close the gap of awkwardness. "I don't think it's a bad thing, though." He said gently, almost as if he was trying to coax a frightened animal out of its cage._ _

__He saw Seulgi eye him warily from the corner of his eye but didn't turn his gaze onto her. "You don't?" She asked, and he could detect the undertones of suspicion in her words. He shook his head. "I've seen the entrance exams to get in." His eyes moved over the angry red that faded into purple bruises up his forearms. They'd really done a number on him this time. "I tried a few questions out, failed them all."_ _

__Seulgi let out a surprised noise, to which he smiled at her, laughter bubbling in his throat. "It's true," He said. "My dad was happy about that, though. It meant he successfully made the papers near to impossible to solve."_ _

__"Is that an indirect compliment to your own intelligence?" Seulgi looked at him. Taeyong stared, watching as her blank expression morphed into something akin to teasing. "Of course." He nodded solemnly, taking it into stride. She let out a breathy laugh, and they settled into a peaceful stillness once again._ _

__Briefly, Taeyong wondered where Baekhyun was with lunch._ _

__"How much do you know about me?" The bluntness of her question violently threw Taeyong off. He whipped his head to look at her, black orbs that had been lifeless just minutes prior now boring into him. "Nothing?" He said, unsure. "I met you a week ago."_ _

__"I didn't tell you I was here on a scholarship." She said quietly, and suddenly, all the fire and ice in her words and body seemed to ebb out of her in one tidal wave, making her slump down. She looked so defeated at that moment, and all Taeyong could register was the familiarity of her expressions, the lines of her posture, the way she seemed to curl inward and grasp for warmth within herself, only to be met with dying embers._ _

__How many times had he seen himself like that?_ _

__"How much have you heard about me, Taeyong?" She asked softly, and Taeyong understood. He understood that they were products of misused words and insults, they were products of a close society and being the ones to toe the lines and step across brought them down to the lowest level where they sat among scum and trash._ _

__"Not a lot." He said finally, voice low. "Couple of rumours here and there, but I don't mingle with a lot of people at school." He peered at her curiously, heart thumping in his throat so hard he was scared she could hear. "I'm assuming you've heard about why, too." He said carefully, and for minutes there was only silence, his chest tightening with each passing second, until she let out a soft, "Yeah."_ _

__Taeyong shakily exhaled, shutting his eyes and he pushed his head between his knees as the lump in his throat grew more profound. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. "Do you think it's bad?" He whispered, not looking at her. "That you kissed a boy?" Her tone wasn't scathing or sharp, just one of befuddlement. He didn't reply. To him, it went way more than that - he knew it wasn't just a one-time thing, he knew he liked boys the same way he was supposed to like girls, he knew he was scared. Taeyong liked knowing things, but he hated not knowing what to do with the knowledge either. He didn't know if he could trust Seulgi with his secrets, he didn't know if he could trust Baekhyun either. He didn't know if he could trust anyone because the ones he did were leaving the town on wings of freedom and they would never return, not even for him._ _

__"I don't know what to think about it," The girl beside him said softly. Taeyong froze, fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his pants. "Like, in my head it makes sense. Kissing is kissing, big deal. At the same time," She paused. "I've never really heard of a boy kissing a boy. But I don't really mind." He felt her gaze turn on him, and forcing his head to move, he locked eyes with her as she stared at him curiously._ _

__"Do you like boys?" She blinked._ _

__He took the safe way out - he shrugged helplessly, and she nodded. "Cool. I won't tell anyone." He chuckled dryly because it didn't matter. People already thought they knew, and even if he had dispelled rumours, stragglers remained determined travellers on their quest to ruin him and bring him down. All those bruises were the product of that, weren't they?_ _

__Seulgi was nice, he decided. She was cold and delicate, with a face that was almost always blank when he passed her in the school corridors. She seemed frail, but at the same time, she seemed strong, far stronger than Taeyong felt he'd ever been. She seemed gentle, especially the way she spoke to him and Baekhyun. He glanced at the clock, wondering how much longer it would be before their silver-haired senior would be back. Taeyong stood up, dusting his hands and the back of his clothes, before turning around and extending a hand._ _

__"I'll teach you how to dance a bit." He smiled._ _

___I want to be your friend. _He hoped she got the message.__ _ _

____Seulgi looked him for a long second before her lips curved upwards, and she clasped the outstretched hand and hauled herself up. _I don't believe the things they say about you, _he wanted to say. _You and I are more alike than we think. _______ _ _

________Broken people like them should stick together, Taeyong thought as he positioned her in front of the mirror, guiding her clumsy limbs through a small segment of the routine. She groaned when she stumbled, hiding her face when Baekhyun entered and was greeted with the scene of her tripping over her own feet. Jagged pieces could fit together to form a complete puzzle, he thought as he watched the tip of Baekhyun's ears go red when she reminded him of the time he'd slipped and nearly fallen onto a patch of wet cement._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________They called him over, seating themselves on the desk as they unwrapped the packed food from the corner restaurant two streets away, the pleasant smell of spice and sweet filling the air as Baekhyun pushed it towards him, a happy twinkle in his eyes as he watched Taeyong nibble on the food._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He glanced at Seulgi, who had given the brightest smile they'd both ever seen, and he watched the edges of Baekhyun's eyes crinkle as he watched her laugh. Jagged pieces could fall together and make a whole, complete puzzle, something that would be worth the value of someone as bright as Baekhyun, Taeyong thought._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He felt happy, and it didn't matter to him that it was bruises and blood that had brought them together. Taeyong liked knowing things, and he knew he would do all he could to keep these two by his side for as long as he could. He just hoped they would want him there as well. And by the way, they pulled him right into the easy dynamic they shared, despite his initial shakiness, the only place he was truly graceful in being dance, he fell into the rhythm of beating hearts and loud laughs in an empty classroom tucked in a corner of the school, and he couldn't have felt happier._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The feeling faded away as each layer of foundation was slowly caked over his skin. His heart pulsed in his throat, strong, steady, and too fast. The soft breeze that blew in through the window offered little respite from the adrenaline pumping through his veins, making him sweat more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________With a rough sigh, he dropped the makeup container, forcing himself to look away from the bronze sheen that had hidden half of the bruises littering his collarbones and cheeks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The past notes of the melody of the chorus echoed in his ears as he tried to recall the ending steps to the song, trying to find balance in the fluid gestures. A knock on the door startled him out of his attempt at a peaceful reverie. His nimble fingers rushed to button the shirt back up to his throat, just as his mother poked her head into his room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"How are you feeling, Yong-ah? Are you feeling confident?" She asked gently. Her eyes were warm and lips held a smile that looked like it was fashioned by the hand fo heaven. She looked angelic, pristine - everything Taeyong was raised to be and never felt. He had the same eyes as his mother, large and tender, he has the same jaw as his father, strong and sturdy. He was thin and tall, he was meant to be the result of years of loyalty to the Lord and a blessing to his parents. He didn't want to be any of that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Taeyong wanted to be the dragon he was named after, the primal myth that let fire dance on his tongue and captures prey with his claws. He wanted to have the freedom to douse the last dregs of his sanity in the ice chills of the air above the clouds, he wanted to be powerful._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He wondered if he ever could be that, when he knew the answer lay innate, in the flow of his blood, and the tendons that strapped muscle to bones. He was so painfully, regrettably human, with a small, beating heart, and an ever-alert mind that fooled him into thinking eyes were always on him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________For now, he'd have to live with that. The Taeyong on stage would know how to make sure none in the audience could tell where one dance move ended and the other began, a smooth, cohesive performance with the demeanour of a river that flowed rough and fast and hard, jerking over protruding rocks but still brought tranquillity to a disturbed mind. Unfortunately, he knew where the Taeyong on stage ended and where he, Lee Taeyong, began, and that distinction would forever remain a thick etched line._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________But for now, he could hope that one day, there would be just Taeyong, and he'd be the best the world had ever seen. With that thought in mind, he pulled on his persona and gave his mother a charming smile, and said, "I'm feeling great. I'll do well - I always do."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And he wonders if his mother's beaming smile is worth the bitter lies that roll off his tongue._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The audience is deafening. In the eyes of the students, he sees warriors who've fought through years and years of stress and pain. He sees nostalgia, disbelief, apathy, happiness, fear - but most of all, he sees freedom._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Each one of them is inexplicably free. Today is their day, tonight is their night. Even if its the only twenty-four hours they have to celebrate with revelry and chaos enough to rival the drunker parties of Dionysius, they will get away with it. Even if they choose to stay in the black and white town of misery, even if they choose to run far beyond its gates and never cast a single backward, longing gaze, this night marks the night of their freedom until they are burdened by adulthood._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Taeyong is determined to make it that far at the very least, and as he watches the lights dim from the sliver of space between the curtains and hard floor of the wooden stage, he prays that he will see himself up there, see someone else twirl and weave stories with their limbs and ride on the notes and melodies to celebrate his success, that one day, he'll be up there and be happy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He glances at Baekhyun, and his heart skips a beat when he sees the older already staring at him, an encouraging smile on his face. His hand squeezes Taeyong's own, letting go the second the curtains rustle and slowly lift._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He'll be thereupon in the gallery next year, Taeyong thinks as they walk forward to the centre quietly, nothing more than silhouettes in the darkness. And maybe then, he could teach Seulgi to dance, and the two could send Baekhyun off on the wings of freedom, ones he will hopefully gain someday. But those are thoughts for off-stage Taeyong, for on-stage Taeyong had a show to put on, and he was going to do it well. When the lights snapped on and the first beat hit, the audience did not see Byun Baekhyun and Lee Taeyong in all their naked, raw glory as flawed humans._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________No, they saw Taeyong and Baekhyun, beasts of elegance with entrancing expressions and palpable emotion with each sway, from the tiniest detail to the vaguest movement._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And Taeyong knew it was a performance to be remembered when the song ended and the lights dimmed because the standing ovation he got indicated that while he may not be immortal in spirit, he will be in their memory. Tales of this day will be spun, and while it may not matter to the Taeyong off-stage, Taeyong on-stage basks in its glory, and with him, Baekhyun does._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And when he smiles at the older boy, all teeth and shining eyes, he worries for the hairlines fractures in his heart and fears for their repair, because he knows that if he fell for the silver-haired boy who steps forward and pulls him into a comforting embrace off-stage, he'll be left with shattered pieces that will tear into his skin and make him bleed crimson all over again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________But for now, like everything else in that moment, Taeyong sets it aside, and allows himself to live in a fantasy where he was normal, the world was beautiful, and it was okay to be in Byun Baekhyun's arms._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He's snapped back to reality in the gentlest way possible. A week after, he still walks around with a smile on his face, a healthy flush adorning his cheeks and the chaos of the applause still ringing loud in his ears until Taeil calls him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I got accepted," The older boy says breathlessly, and Taeyong simultaneously feels his heart soar and plummet. "I'm actually-I-I actually got accepted!" Taeil yells in joy, and despite the impending sense of doom, Taeyong's face breaks into the proudest grin as he turns around and hurries back in the direction of what he calls home but never really feels like home." I'll be there in five minutes, we can celebrate together!" He cheers, and he hopes Taeil can hear the obvious sincerity in his voice._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Happiness blooms in what he envisions to be pastel yellow flowers in the crevices of his ribs and their beauty is enough to distract him for the widening of the cracks in organ encased within the cage of ivory bone. Taeyong is good at giving, and what his friend needs right now is all the encouragement and happiness he could possibly offer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Taeyong is full of love yet little to none to give it to, and so he will give and give and give until he is dry and alone when Taeil finally leaves the cold, nameless town._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________As he hurries over the arched, bridge over the Banshee's Canal, he pauses to stare down at the rushing water much farther below, with all the ripples caused by the uneven juts of cement and the huge rocks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He wonders if this is where he'll find himself once again, now that Taeil would be leaving him. He wonders if this is where he will contemplate whether to leap or not, feeling so utterly alone, so utterly driven to escape his mind and this hell, yet too cowardly to take the leap and plunge to an icy death._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________When it comes down to it, Taeyong is a coward, and he once again feels hate bubble in the pits of his stomach, because he knows so very well where the persona of the charismatic confident dancer ends, and where the true entirety of Lee Taeyong with all his shortcomings begins._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The Maniac, everything he is not but wishes to be, such a polar opposite of who he really is to the point of being labelled crazily so, berates him internally for his cowardice. In the face of his own angels and demons, he makes a blind promise that he'd never come here again, and he hopes he can hold himself to it while hurrying on._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Deep down, he knew he wasn't any good at keeping promises._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"What will you do when I go?" Taeil asks him that night, and Taeyong stares. "I don't know," He answers after a pause. "Just, you know, keep trying to exist."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Exist," Taeil repeats, but there's no mockery in his tone. "Existing is hard sometimes." Taeyong sighs, lifting his eyes up to the cloudless sky._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"It's always been hard, hasn't it?" He whispers. "We were just ignorant to the bruises it left us as children."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He knows Taeil understands because, for all its worth, the thread of friendship that connects them is one that no scissors have been able to snip over the endless days they've shared from their infancy to adolescence to youth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It's always been an endless circle of just them, Taeil and Taeyong until it just became Taeil and Taeyong, but with more spaces between the names because life found a way to drive a wedge between the two. Taeil is the oak tree, focused, steadfast and driven, unbending to the whims of material and mental pleasure, deriving satisfaction from his success alone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Taeyong is more of an aimless vine, curling its way around any support to even stand, with the foolish hope of becoming stronger one day. Even so, the vines layer, protect, and hide their support from danger and the world. In that way, the two of them complimented each other._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And even though Taeyong may not be synonymous with Taeil anymore, the loop of them and them again coming to a pause, perhaps a final halt by next week, he finds that he isn't too bitter. Taeyong merely sits beside Taeil as they stare at the night sky and whisper secrets, thoughts, comforting words, harsh insults, memories and more as if condensing all their years of existence into one single conversation of meaning and recollection._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Taeyong isn't bitter at all anymore, just sad, worried, and a little scared, but then his mind drifts to images of silver hair that reminds him of silken spiderwebs and dark eyes that look like coffee grounds. He thinks about black hair and arms crossed almost rigidly, and he thinks, for once, he'll be okay._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Taeil is glad to hear that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Taeyong is glad that Taeil is free, and one day, he knows he will be._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Oh, how lovely they look together!" His mother's eyes are on the lead singers of the church choir as they enter, hands clasped as Taeyong' s father ushers them into their seats. He hears the names of the girl but refuses to look up at them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He, after all, promised he would not acknowledge her presence beyond their encounters at the bridge, although that proved to be rather difficult, seeing as this was a small town, she was a big name, and Taeyong was just rather clumsy, happening to collide with her every other day. He still ignored her, and she ignored him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It's when his mother mentions Byun Baekhyun that his eyes snap up to stare at the choir. Beside _her _stands, Baekhyun, dressed in white, pristine and neatly pressed. To his other side stands his sister, younger, if Taeyong remembered right.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Do you know if Baekhyun has a girlfriend?" His mother whispered fathered excitedly to him, and Taeyong ignored the pinch in his heart at her words, before slowly shaking his head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I don't think so," He whispered back. "But I also don't think you're business to know, Ma." He knows he got away with the direct jab by using the term of endearment because his mother slaps his lightly on the arm and laughs as if they were sharing an inside joke no one else would know._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"He and ______ would look wonderful together," she says wistfully, and Taeyong makes the effort to censor the name in the echoes of the statement that bounce around in the walls of his mind. He sees the next statement coming, perhaps has been unconsciously expecting it since the moment this conversation started, but it hurts no less when his mother turns to hin with bright eyes and says, "I cannot wait to find you a wife!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His father gives his grunt of affirmation when his mother looks at him pointedly, Taeyong nods politely and plasters a fond smile on his face, and to the outside world, they look like the picture-perfect family._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________But when his eyes meet Baekhyun's gaze, a sharp, perceptive one that forces him to immediately look away, he knows that his family is anything but that. He knows he's waging war with the world but they don't even know. He knows he's shattering every dream his parents had for him, bit by bit as he strays further away from what they call their God._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________You say you love everyone, _and we must too, he thinks as he mouths the words of prayer, unable to bring himself to use his voice. _But they tell me you hate me for who I love. ______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________But nothing is fair, and his simple statement of truth that never left his tongue but stayed in the wells of his mind went unanswered by the entity they praised and loved, and Taeyong knew he was a hopeless case._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He was falling apart at the seams, and he knew that there was no one who would bother enough to stitch him back. People knew him only as of the Maniac, or as the version of Lee Taeyong his parents presented, one that wore shirts tucked into pants and hair slicked back artfully, and not the one who came home littered with bruises._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________This town is small and word gets around fast, but for the amount of talking the townspeople do, Taeyong thinks, it's a marvel that secrets still lurk under the surface of their facades._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He supposes that this town is indeed full of liars, and maybe that's why they rever his maniacal aspect - because they're understood by someone on stage. But he also thinks they no longer have souls, and he slowly feels his own slip out his grasp with each little word they say against that brands itself into his mind and carves itself on his skin._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He is tired, Taeyong realises as he leans back into his seat once the prayer is over. He is tired and the world is dull, but he should get used to it because it'll be a while before he can flee and see colour._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He does flee and see colour but in the worst possible way. His footsteps pound against the stairs as he rushes to the roof, having lost the boys in the maze of corridors, once a feature he loathed about his school but now was grateful for._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________His breathing is heavy and his heart is racing. He can feel the tears streak down his face and he thinks he can feel blood seep through his shirt. Their words play back in his mind against his will, and he crouches down in the corner, head between his knees and hands to his ears as he lets out a muffled sob._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________"Don't try to rack it up with Baekhyun, f-" "Go to hell, we can send you there," "Abomination!" "I wonder if you spread that little disease of the town's golden boy yet?" "Wouldn't that be some news, Byun Baekhyun and Lee Taeyong, fucking fa-" ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Suddenly it's Seulgi, whispering, _"I've never heard of a boy kissing a boy, but I don't have a problem with it." _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Taeyong tries to draw comfort from those words, whispers about how men fear what they do not understand. It is why men fear God and stick to his rules, saying its in the name of devotion but rather, it's out of fear of the repercussions. It is why men fear him, hate him because they don't understand him, and he wonders if it's only because of he who kissed once or if his existence was in defiance to some unknown, innate law they grasped onto and followed like their loved depended on it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He wishes he could equate himself to God for comfort, and he thinks he understands the loneliness that is spawned out of fear and misunderstanding. If he had powers of the Supreme, he'd make the world an unfair place too._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________But that's a level of bitterness and ego that even the Maniac will refuse, even the part of him he held onto for shelter will deny, for it agrees sometimes that Taeyong is dirt, and he must be changed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He cries and cries and cries out into the blank evening sky, the silence punctured with only his muffled sobs, and soon, the sound of shoes. He looks up to see him, Baekhyun, all prim and proper once again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________All he ever does is smile or stare passively, all he ever does is whisper words of encouragement and support, all he ever does remain calm and composed. Taeyong wants to hate him and despise him and hurl insults like stones at him. Taeyong wants to loath him, not love him, and he hates that it is just another failure to add to the list._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Baekhyun crouches beside him, but before he can speak, Taeyong chokes out, "Don't."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________The silver-haired pauses, taken aback, before a look of understanding graces the sculpted features again, and he nods. Taeyong whimpers as he falls back, the curve of his spine pressed against the concrete walls that lined the roof, hands buried in his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"You shouldn't talk to me anymore." He whispers, and he doubts Baekhyun can even hear him but he continues. "They say things about you, they say things about me, and-" He breaks off as a hiccup forces its way out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Let them," Baekhyun says, and Taeyong peers at him through his fingers blearily._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"You know I like boys, right?" Taeyong demanded, hands dropping as he turned to stare fully at Baekhyun. The words felt foreign in his mouth. Never had his revelation of his sexual orientation ever been straightforward, blunt, real. Saying it like that makes it real, and he doesn't know how he feels about that, but he pushes on anyway._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"I like boys." He breathes out. Baekhyun pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows, eyes pensive as if lost in thought. "I heard a few things here and there," he shrugged. "But I don't think you ever told me." He gives Taeyong a sincere smile, a warm, heartfelt one that would have made his heart beat faster and blanketed him in warmth on any other occasion. "Thank you for telling me."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Taeyong stares at him, mouth agape. "Are you not bothered by that?" He asked, incredulously. "No?" Baekhyun looks at him, confused. "Should I be?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"YES!" Taeyong cries out, and Baekhyun looks taken aback by his outburst. "I-Do you not-" His words tumble out of his mouth in a jumbled mess, and somewhere in that mess, he wonders if he can hide the feelings that began to grow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Baekhyun quietens him down, an arm slinging itself over his shoulders as he tugs him into his side, and Taeyong feels small as he buries himself into the older's warm, one-armed embrace._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He cries._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Taeyong is weak, hurt, and sad, so he cries. He's falling for another man, so he cries. He's so utterly sick and tired of the world being unfair to him, so he cries and cries and cries and cries, and Baekhyun is there to thumb away from the tears and tuck Taeyong's head into the crook of his neck._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Baekhyun is perfect, he realises. He's calm and composed, a golden child who's eyes are trained from birth to count numbers but the body is honed from adolescence to express art. He's everything Taeyong wants to be, he's everything everyone wants their child to be._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Taeyong wonders if there will ever be a day when he sees something ugly flicker on Baekhyun's face. He thinks not, for even unmitigated rage would look beautiful on him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He regrets._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________And so he makes another promise that he is determined to keep, that he will not let his feelings for the silver-haired virtuous beauty that sits beside him grow any further, because he can't afford to lose one of the only friends he has in this miserable place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He promises, even though he knows he's bad at keeping them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"I bruise easily too, " Seulgi says quietly as they sit in the old classroom during lunch one day. Her straight black hair hangs like a curtain that hid her pretty features._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Taeyong finds it hard to find beauty in the simple things anymore, finding adequate art in the bruises that litter his skin from the tussles and the dancing, but he thinks that if he were born normal, he'd love Seulgi and all her beauty._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"You bruise?" He asks just as softly, not daring to raise his voice a notch more for the fear of disturbing the rickety roof of peace that has settled over their illusionary haven away from the rest of the world during those thirty minutes of break time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"A lot," She replies, and when she looks up, he can see the pain in her smile. "So I know how much it hurts. I want you to know I think you're incredibly brave for being able to stand that."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He blinks because he's never heard someone compliment the Taeyong that wasn't the Maniac. He stares at her, and her eyes drop back to her notes, but the smile still lingers. "Thank you," He says sincerely, and a small one blossoms on his own lips. "That means a lot."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Seulgi doesn't reply, but she acknowledges him with a nod. He shifts, before saying, "For the record, I think you are too. I'm sorry it didn't strike me to tell you that earlier."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________To that, her eyes shift, a subtle shine that one could miss if they weren't staring directly in warm, dark orbs. Her lips curve upwards and her cheeks lift in happiness, and she whispers a thank you in return._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"I hope we can stick together for a long time," Taeyong mutters as he picks at his food and divides it in half. "You, me, and him." He offers half to her, and she gives it a glance, before taking it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"Of course we will," Baekhyun announces as he walks through the door. The two of them flinch violently, and he steps back in surprise, eyes wide as he apologises before dumping his book bag on the floor and takes a seat, cross-legged, in front of them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________"We're a little family now, aren't we?" He asks as he pouts at Taeyong, who sighs as he offers him his lunchbox._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________Seulgi watches him carefully, before nodding. "I guess we are," She says, attention once again returning to her work, and Baekhyun positively beams at that. "Of course we are," He says insistently. "And one day, we can all go to the city, live in a small apartment, and be happy there."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________And Taeyong is more than willing to indulge in that fantasy, because any family doesn't tie him down to this sad little town is family enough, and he chuckles at the words._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________He feels happy, and he feels hopeful. He feels accepted, and he feels loved._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________________For once, Lee Taeyong and the Maniac are in agreement - if they ever had to call something home in this desolate town, it would be them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
